


Let Your Heart Be Light

by FervidAsAFlame



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Gwaine/Elena - Freeform, Background Gwen/Lancelot - Freeform, Background Percival/Elyan, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone In This Fic Goes to Therapy, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Getting Together, Good Morgana (Merlin), Grief/Mourning, Insecure Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death (offscreen), Modern Era, Siblings, nanny!merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FervidAsAFlame/pseuds/FervidAsAFlame
Summary: Ever since their father passed away, Arthur can admit that maybe he's a bit overly involved with his sister's family life. Sure his commitment to being a part of his two young niece's lives has cost him more than one boyfriend, but being the Favourite Uncle is more than worth it. That is, until Morgana hires Merlin, a young PhD student, as their new nanny.Suddenly, everyone is singing Merlin's praises. Though he tries to play nice, Arthur can’t help but feel like he’s being edged out of his own family every time Merlin shows up during his quality time with his nieces. Luckily, he has Christmas in the family cottage to look forward to -- six whole days of fun family traditions and absolutely no Merlin … or so he thinks.
Relationships: Leon/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 183
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2020





	Let Your Heart Be Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassie_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassie_black/gifts).



> [cassie_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassie_black/), I had SUCH a hard time choosing between your wonderful prompts! I honestly wish I had time to write them all, but this is the one that wormed its way into my brain immediately and would not leave, so I went ahead with it! I hope very much that it’s to your liking and that you’re having a lovely holiday season!
> 
> Thank you so much to [Aoigensou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou) for all your amazing support and encouragement and for never making fun of me and my many typos! <3
> 
> Thank you also to [MayoToffees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceewelsh), my Brit Picker (and bonus beta!), for all your help in getting this fic up to snuff! I loved hearing all your stories and really appreciate your help! <3
> 
> And huge thank you to [Divine529](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divine529) for the post-mortem beta to clean up the last of my never-ending typos before reveals :)

Arthur checked his watch for the tenth time in the last half hour and cursed under his breath. It was already half seven and Morgana was going to kill him for showing up this late and getting the girls wound up right before bedtime on a school night, but there had been an accident on the M4 so it couldn’t be helped. 

That’s what he told himself anyway, knowing full well that Morgana would take one look at him and see right through to how hard the trip had been and how much he needed to see his family. 

He shifted on the leather seat and stared out the window of the taxi that carried him closer and closer to Morgana's Notting Hill townhouse. He knew that for most of his mates, three weeks without seeing their siblings or various nieces and nephews wouldn’t even register, but for Arthur it felt like an eternity. From the day that Morgana called him panicked and sobbing to tell him that she had gotten pregnant on her honeymoon -- ten years ahead of schedule -- he had assured her that he would always be there for her and whatever children that she brought into the world. Though he would have supported her either way, he had been elated when she had decided to fling herself into motherhood ahead of schedule.

The day that Leon had placed baby Abigail into his arms had been perhaps the happiest day of his life. Arthur couldn’t stop staring at the perfect bundle in his arms, with her shock of dark hair and bright, unfocused eyes. It made him feel a little shaky, so he sat on the hospital bed next to an exhausted-looking Morgana. They smiled sadly at each other, neither of them bothering to wipe away the tears. Arthur knew that like him, Morgana was thinking about Uther and how much he had wanted to be here for this, so neither of them needed to mention it out loud.

Their father’s long illness and death had been both a blessing and a curse. At the time of his diagnosis, the three of them had barely been in each other’s lives, seeing each other only at Christmas and Easter and phoning for birthdays. After years of butting heads with Uther over his archaic views of women in business, Morgana had left home for uni and never came back, which Arthur bitterly resented. He was also on shaky ground with Uther after refusing to study Business and instead choosing Medieval Literature. But one impossibly perfect May afternoon, Uther had gathered them together to share his diagnosis -- and his prognosis. No more than five years, his doctor said. 

Arthur could still remember how it felt to hear the news, how it sucked all the air out of the room and left his ears ringing. When he felt as if the world was turning upside down, he’d looked to Morgana immediately and how strangely comforted he was to see his fear mirrored in her eyes and to know that he wasn’t facing this alone. 

The years that followed were difficult but rewarding. What had surprised both siblings was how desperately Uther seemed to want to make amends. He apologized to both Morgana for not believing in her abilities to take over the family business, and to Arthur for pushing him too hard. In the time Uther had left there had been a lot of talks, many of them with a family therapist, about everything from their frosty upbringing to their mother’s death, to the way the Pendragon’s company had been run and Uther's vision of it for the future. 

In the end, Arthur decided on his own to switch majors and pursue business after all. He wanted to be able to be there for Morgana, who had already taken on the role of CEO when Uther stepped down, and found that he preferred Medieval Literature as a hobby. The three of them spent hours with Uther’s solicitor, redrafting mission statements and standard operating procedures for the business and working on a will to make sure that Uther’s considerable assets would be distributed fairly. 

They spent an equal amount of time with the family therapist, who helped them with the most difficult conversations. Though it certainly wasn’t easy, Arthur had been able to hear so many things that he had needed to hear growing up but hadn’t, and found himself still grateful for it all the same. In the end, despite all the tears and shouting and Arthur’s explosive coming out, which had surprised even him, they were all exhausted but content and ready to move forward with what little time Uther had left. 

When Morgana started having nightmares, Arthur encouraged her to attend the grief support group he’d started going to and it wasn’t long before one name seemed to come up much more than the others in their conversations. Leon was a secondary school English Literature teacher who had lost his best friend to a drunk driving accident the previous year. From the way Morgana talked about him, he sounded too good to be true, but when Arthur finally met him at the family’s Christmas gathering, he could see right away that he was a good man. His calm and even-tempered nature seemed to complement Morgana’s hotheadedness perfectly, and he neither avoided nor acquiesced to Uther. Arthur saw Uther smiling to himself enough to know that the man had won his respect. 

Morgana never made hasty decisions, but after two years, she and Leon were clearly in love and Uther was getting sicker every day. That spring they held an intimate wedding at the family’s summer cottage, which Uther bequeathed to the pair before he passed away six months later.

When Abigail came along three months after that, Arthur stared at her sleeping face and swore that he wouldn’t waste time the way his father had, that she wouldn’t have to wait for years to hear that her uncle was proud of her and supported her no matter what. When Vivian came along three years later, it was even easier to make the promise to her, when Abigail had already stolen his heart. 

“Here we are, sir.”

Arthur snapped out of his reverie and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had let his mind wander far enough that he had to remind himself that Abigail and Vivian were now nine (and a _half,_ she’d remind him) and six. And probably waiting for him to pull himself together and get out of the car. 

He probably should have stopped at home first -- his flat was only two blocks away -- but as at least half of his luggage was gifts for the girls, he thought it just as well that he see them right away. He lugged the suitcases up the steps of the townhouse and let himself in with his key. 

“Hello, anybody home?” Arthur said in his best American accent. There was immediately a rumbling from the stairs. 

Cries of “Uncle Arthur!” echoed through the front hallway as the girls barreled toward him. Vivian got to him first and launched herself into his arms. A second later, Abigail crashed into him, almost sending them all toppling, but he managed to right them and wrap one arm around her. He hugged them both tight and let the safe feelings of home and love wash over him. 

“Well, let’s have a look at you then, have Mummy and Daddy been taking care of you whilst I was away? Abs, I think you’ve grown another five inches.” 

Abigail rolled her eyes, “You say that every time you go away.” But she looked pleased as she stepped back from him and beamed. 

“And Vivvy, oh I’ve missed you,” he said, giving the slight girl another squeeze,” you haven’t played any Minecraft without me, have you?” 

Vivian looked at her sister and they both giggled. 

“What?!” Arthur made an exaggeratedly shocked face. “You have? Without me?” The girls giggled harder, then shrieked as Arthur stalked toward them with his hands outstretched, fingers threatening to tickle. 

“Arthur! Do you have to get them all wound up right before bed?” 

Arthur turned to grin at Morgana’s predictability, then did a double-take. Usually by this time of night she had embraced “mum mode” and donned leggings and a ponytail. Instead, she had a full face of makeup, a sleek plum colored dress, and was fastening gold hoops to her ears as she came down the hallway toward him, her heels tapping against the tiled floor. 

“Look at you!” he said, as he pulled her in for a hug and carefully placed a kiss on her cheek. “Hot date?” 

“I made dinner reservations at The Ledbury, which we’re going to be late for if we don’t leave soon,” she said, checking her watch. 

“The Ledbury?” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. “To what do we owe the occasion?”

“To welcome you home, of course,” Morgana grinned at him. “Also, I thought you could use some decent food after being stuck in America for a month.”

Before Arthur had time to remind her that it was only three weeks and that New York had some of the best restaurants in the world, Leon jogged down the stairs, tucking his dress shirt into his trousers and greeting Arthur with a half hug and hearty slap to the back. 

“Alright, Arthur! How was New York?” he asked, looping a tie around his neck before bending to kiss each of his daughters on the head. “You girls be good now, don’t stay up late.”

“Are you coming too?” Arthur asked, nonplussed. “What about the girls?” 

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the doorbell chimed. Arthur looked to the door with a frown. Relief washed over Morgana’s face as she moved past Arthur to answer. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, my seminar went over so I missed the first bus -- am I too late?” A lanky boy with large ears, a tangle of dark hair, and bright blue eyes stepped into the house as if he’d done it a million times. He was dressed in corduroy trousers with an ugly jumper and looked disheveled, as if he had run from the bus stop.

“You’re perfectly on time, as always,” Morgana said with a genuine smile, which for some reason annoyed Arthur. Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask who the hell this was, he was pushed to the side.

“MERLIN!” shrieked the girls, who ran to the door and flung themselves at the man. His face broke into a grin when he saw them. 

“There now, I told you that you’d get a surprise tonight if you were good for Mummy and Daddy!” he said, bending to swing Vivian up over his shoulder as Abigail clung to his arm and looked up at him adoringly. Arthur’s annoyance swelled into anger. Who the hell even was this, and why was the entire family looking at him like he hung the moon? 

The man glanced up and must have spotted the look on Arthur’s face, because he laughingly untangled himself from the girls and stepped forward. 

“You must be Uncle Arthur,” he said, holding his hand out with a grin. “I’ve certainly heard a lot about you!” 

Arthur dearly wanted to ignore his handshake, but he knew the girls were watching so he clasped the man’s hand. 

“Funny,” he said, with a tight-lipped smile. “I haven’t heard a thing about you.” 

The man laughed as if Arthur had made a joke, which just made Arthur even more cross. 

“Arthur,” Morgana said in a perfectly even tone whilst shooting daggers at Arthur. “This is Merlin Emrys, he’s the new nanny I told you about.”

Arthur searched back in his memory and vaguely remembered Morgana telling him over a video call that Harriet -- the woman who had nannied for them since Abigail was born -- was moving back up north to care for her own new grandchild. Morgana had complained about not being able to find anyone she trusted, but Arthur felt sure hadn’t mentioned finding a replacement. Especially not some twenty-year-old who looked like he’d gotten his clothes from Oxfam. 

Arthur opened his mouth to deliver a cutting remark, knowing Morgana would make him pay for it later, but the girls were already tugging Merlin down the hall to the stairway, their uncle’s return completely forgotten. He watched as Vivian suddenly broke off and ran back down to where the three adults stood. Arthur felt a surge of affection toward her, but as he scooped her into his arms for a hug, she squeezed him and said in his ear.

”Did you bring us presents?” 

Arthur forced a smile. 

“Yes, lots,” Arthur whispered back. 

“Vivian Arthur Knightley,” Morgana rebuked her, slipping on a jacket. “I know your manners are better than that. Just for that, presents can wait until tomorrow, I think.” 

It usually never failed to make Arthur smile to hear Vivian’s middle name, which Morgana had insisted would be Arthur regardless of sex. Tonight it just made him feel wistful.

“Yes, mummy,” she said. She looked longingly at the suitcase still standing in the entryway, but trotted back to Merlin’s side obediently. 

“It was nice meeting you, Arthur,” Merlin said, his eyes twinkling. “Have a lovely dinner and don’t worry about this lot; I’ll have them settled in no time.” 

Arthur muttered a reply, but Morgana went down the hall to kiss the children goodnight and surprised Arthur by pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek as well. 

“Thanks again for working late, you’re a lifesaver.” 

Merlin’s eyes flitted to Arthur for just a moment, then he leaned in and said something to Morgana that Arthur couldn’t quite catch. Morgana laughed and whispered something back. 

Merlin grinned at whatever she said and then herded the children up the stairs, promising to tell them a bedtime story if they hurried and brushed their teeth. 

“What did you say to him?” Arthur asked, as soon as Morgana was near enough. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, dear brother,” Morgana answered, with a pat to his cheek. Arthur batted her hand away and scowled. 

“Jealous of who? Him? Why do you need a nanny anyway? Abigail is nearly ten.” 

“Don’t be dense, Arthur. You know we still need someone to get the girls from school and stay with them for the afternoon?” 

“Aren’t there programs at the school for that?” 

“Ah yes, but the after-school programs don’t do light cleaning and cook dinner three nights a week,” Leon said, slipping an arm around his wife’s waist. As usual, Morgana’s pique seemed to subside at his touch. She elbowed him affectionately. 

“I don’t see you getting home from work any earlier than I do,” she teased. “And yes, okay, it is nice to have someone in the house to take care of some things while we’re still at work. We can certainly afford it, so I’m happy to. Now come on, I can only walk so fast in these heels and the reservation’s in fifteen minutes.” 

As they made their way past the garden square, Arthur learned that Merlin was actually twenty-six, was finishing a PhD in psychology, that he had been an au pair in France for two years, and that he had come highly recommended by Morgana’s best friend Gwen, who worked at the university. The girls had taken to him immediately and he had been extremely reliable thus far. Leon raved about how excellent his cooking was. Morgana made a blatant attempt to curry Arthur’s favor by mentioning that Merlin was a lifelong Newcastle supporter, which Arthur pointedly ignored. 

By the time they got to dinner, Arthur was ready to never hear another word about Merlin for the rest of his life. Luckily, by the time they had gotten to their table, Morgana had launched directly into shop talk, much to Leon’s chiding to leave it for the office. Arthur tried to put on a good face, but he was jet-lagged and mentally exhausted after nearly a month’s worth of hustle to support the audit in New York, and yeah, alright, he could admit it -- a little jealous of Merlin. He’d been looking forward to this homecoming for so long and he couldn’t help but feel as though it had been ruined.

On the walk home Morgana and Leon got into one of their playful debates and Arthur trailed behind, feeling melancholy. He knew that Morgana and Leon had been more than generous with opening up their home and family to him over the years, but there were times when it hit him afresh that he wasn’t actually part of their family -- of course, he and Morgana were siblings and the girls were his nieces, but at the end of the day, he went back home to his empty flat and empty life. 

The house was quiet when they returned, and Leon gave Arthur another slap on the back and moved into the sitting room where a moment later Arthur could hear quiet voices. Arthur and Morgana looked at each other for a moment in the entryway. 

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. 

Arthur didn’t trust himself to answer, but met Morgana’s gaze and let the mask drop. Her dark eyes filled with worry. 

“Let me walk you home,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it in hers. 

He wanted to protest that he’d be fine, that she shouldn’t be walking alone at night, but instead he just nodded. She gave his hand another squeeze and went to tell Leon while Arthur pulled his suitcase toward the door, opting to leave the one full of gifts in the hallway. He felt awkward standing in the entryway, so he stepped back outside and made his way down the stairs to the pavement. It was mid-October, so the night was already dark and chilly, though the long, austere row of houses gleamed brightly in the street light. Another wave of exhaustion swept over Arthur and he was about to text Morgana not to bother when the door opened, and she stepped outside. He was relieved to see that Merlin wasn’t with her.

“Sorry, I had to change into flats, I’ve had enough heels for the day,” she said, tucking her arm in his and turning them in the direction of his flat.

“Shorty,” Arthur said affectionately, nudging her with his shoulder. 

“Watch it,” she said with a mock glare. “They double as weapons.” 

Arthur laughed and felt slightly better. They walked for a block with only the steady rolling of the suitcase interrupting the silence before Morgana turned to him again. 

“Are you really okay though? You looked out of it at dinner.” 

“I am,” he assured her. “Just tired really. Dinner was lovely, but I’d probably have preferred a quiet night in with a home cooked meal and the girls.”

Morgana looked guilty. 

"Ugh. I've been out of the travel game for so long that I forgot what it's like to eat at restaurants every night."

Arthur smiled tiredly. 

"It's fine. Dinner out was nice too."

"Come over tomorrow," Morgana decided. I'll try to finish up a little early and you can ride home with me. Merlin's cooking so there should be --"

Arthur tried to hide his scowl, but he was too exhausted to hold back. Morgana gazed at him contemplatively. 

"You really don't like him,” she stated without question. “Why?"

Arthur wanted to protest, but just sighed instead. "He's fine. It was just a surprise is all. You never mentioned him."

"Well," Morgana said, stopping in front of the door to his building. "I was hoping that-"

Now it was Arthur's turn to cut her off with a raised hand.

"I'm too tired for this. Can we talk about it tomorrow?" 

Morgana just nodded and leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

"Get some sleep," she said. "I'll see you in the office?"

Arthur nodded, then stood for a moment to watch her walk away. He knew better than to voice any concerns about her safety, but he watched to make sure she rang Leon on her phone before turning the block. When she disappeared from sight, he pushed inside the building and greeted the doorman before heading for the lifts. 

Arthur unlocked the flat and stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the room. He always hated the moment in the day that he returned to his flat, which was why he usually delayed it for as long as possible, either staying late at work or Morgana and Leon's house. Despite having lived here for nearly a decade, the flat looked empty and non-descript -- everything was as neat as he had left it. In fact, it was barely discernible from the hotel room he’d been staying in the last three weeks. 

He threw the stack of post that he’d retrieved from his box on the worktop, just to make things look a little lived-in. It was depressing to be faced with evidence of how little of a life he actually had. He thought to himself -- not for the first time -- that he needed to get back in the dating scene. After what had happened with his last boyfriend -- who hung around just long enough for Arthur to get his hopes up before revealing that he had no interest in either having children of his own or acting as uncle to Arthur’s nieces -- Arthur had found it easier to just pull when he needed it and live vicariously through Morgana and Leon’s cosy family life the rest of the time. But he couldn’t keep doing it forever. He wanted a family of his own. 

As he hastily undressed and forced himself into a quick shower to wash off the travel grime, he let his thoughts drift back to Morgana’s new nanny. _Merlin_. Ridiculous name, but Arthur could admit to himself that he was jealous of the easy way that he seemed to fit seamlessly into their lives. Even though Leon and Morgana had never made him feel anything less than welcome, and the girls adored him, he always had a distinct sense of sticking out a bit. The previous nanny had been of the classic no-nonsense type, but this Merlin bloke seemed much warmer and apparently had stepped right into his place whilst he was gone. 

Arthur shook his head as he toweled off his hair and cleaned his teeth. He was being ridiculous. The girls had always had a nanny and it had never taken anything away from him before. And neither would Merlin. He just had to pretend he didn’t exist when he wasn’t around, and be politely indifferent when he was. And if he asked Morgana for permission to do some extra “fun uncle” things in the next couple of weeks, all the better. 

By the time that Arthur finally collapsed into his bed, he had all but put Merlin out of his head. 

~ ❅ ~

In the weeks that followed, Arthur found that ignoring Merlin was going to be more difficult than previously anticipated. Although the girls seemed to be no less affectionate toward Arthur, their delight in Merlin whenever he was around didn’t fade a bit. Arthur found himself diving back into his long work hours, avoiding the townhouse on weeknights, and only stopping by on weekends when he knew Merlin wouldn’t be there. Even then he could see signs of him around the house -- a leftover meal he’d made here, a forgotten jacket there, his name penciled in on the family calendar. Arthur scowled to himself at this last one, when he noticed the name on Halloween.

“I thought you and I were taking the girls trick-or-treating?” he said, trying not to sound accusatory. 

Morgana, who had pointedly not brought Merlin up again since that first night, rolled her eyes. 

“He’s going to stay behind and hand out sweets at the house so that Leon can join us this year.” 

But when Arthur arrived on Halloween night, looking forward to enjoying the crisp evening and the girl’s infectious excitement (and if he was honest with himself, nicking some of their sweets at the end of the night), his plans for a bonding night with his nieces and sister were dashed. 

“Please! Please!” Vivian was begging, clinging to one of Merlin’s legs. Her curly blond locks had tumbled out from beneath the hood of her dragon costume as she made pleading eyes up at Merlin. 

Merlin was laughingly trying to pry her off, but when Arthur shut the door behind him -- perhaps a little too hard -- his laughter grew more forced. 

“No, no, I’ve got to stay here, else I’ll turn into a pumpkin! Mummy will take pictures and tomorrow we’ll sort out your sweets so you can give me all your Curly Wurlys.”

 _Not if I get them first,_ Arthur thought, standing uncomfortably in the doorway and wondering where Morgana was. Vivian spotted him and launched herself into his arms. 

“Uncle Arthur!” she crowed, throwing her arms around him in a hug. Arthur couldn’t help sending a smug look over her shoulder at Merlin, who was smiling at them. 

“Hello, Miss Vivian, are you ready to get lots and lots of sweeties?” he said, spinning her around and then plopping her back on the floor and kneeling down to sort her costume. 

“Uncle Arthur, tell Merlin he has to come with us,” Vivian said, fixing her wide earnest eyes. “It won’t be fun if he doesn’t come.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Arthur said lightly, straightening her dragon wings and carefully not looking in Merlin's direction. “Don’t you think you’ll have fun with old Uncle Arthur? I’ll give you a piggyback ride!” 

Vivian looked as though she was seriously considering whether a piggyback ride was worth giving up on her demand but at that moment Morgana and Abigail, dressed as a goth-looking vampire, came down the stairs. Vivian raced past Merlin to throw her arms around her mother’s waist.

“Mummy, can Merlin come with us? Please?” 

“Oh!” Abigail’s face lit up. “Can he, Mum?”

“Oh darling, I don’t know,” Morgana said, glancing first at Merlin, then Arthur. “Then who will hand out candy here?” 

Arthur shot her a look that said clearly she’d better not consider asking him to stay. Luckily, Leon appeared from the sitting room at that moment. As usual, he took in the tense scene in a moment and immediately smoothed things over. He kissed his wife on the cheek and took the bowl of candy from Merlin’s hands.

“If it’s alright with everyone, I’d prefer to stay home,” he announced. “It was a long day of tricks and treats and students butchering Poe, so I’m knackered anyway. The three of you go.” 

Morgana looked as if she wanted to argue with him for a moment, but when he raised his eyebrows, her lips tightened into a thin line. 

“Alright,” she said. “If you’re sure. The three of us then. Merlin, can you help me with something in the kitchen?”

Merlin, who had been standing awkwardly to the side during this exchange, looked only too happy to follow her. 

“Yay, Merlin! Yay, Uncle Arthur!” Vivian chanted as she hopped down the hallway. Arthur grinned at her, but he couldn’t help but feel defensive and irritated at the situation. Later, as the girls raced ahead to the next doorbell and Merlin and Morgana trailed them, laughing loudly together -- Arthur was pretty sure Morgana had put wine in their water bottles -- Arthur trudged along behind on the pavement. Just like the botched homecoming, it seemed that every time he got excited about an event with the girls, Merlin showed up and ruined everything. 

Which was exactly what he said to Morgana when she rang him later that week about Bonfire night. 

“Arthur, honestly, I don’t have time for this,” Morgana said, an exasperated edge to her voice. “Merlin’s going and that’s it.”

“But why? Can’t I just take the girls myself like last year?” Arthur knew he was whinging, but he had no plans to stop, so he got up to shut his office door. 

“I told you,” Morgana said, from two floors above. “I promised Abby she could go to the proper fireworks this year. So, you can stay with her for that, and Merlin can take Vivian home after the children’s display.” 

“Why can’t Leon come?” 

“Parent teacher conferences,” Morgana replied.

“Why can’t _you_ come?” 

“ _Because_ ,” Morgana said through the teeth Arthur could tell were clenched. “I have to stay late and cover for _you_ at this acquisition meeting since you wanted to take the girls to the fireworks!” 

Arthur knew when he was beat, so he stayed silent. When Morgana spoke again after a moment, her tone was softer. 

“Arthur, you know I love you, and I’m so lucky that you’re involved with the girl’s lives. But I am the parent here, and it makes the most sense for Merlin to go with you. Unless you’d rather run the meeting after all?”

“No,” Arthur said glumly. It always stung a bit when she pulled the “I’m the parent” card, even though they had both agreed early on that she had veto power over her own children. 

Morgana laughed. “I didn’t think so. Now please try to be civil to Merlin, will you? I promise he doesn’t bite.”

~ ❅ ~

Later at the house, he gave Merlin a tight smile when he arrived and spent the rest of the night ignoring him as much as possible. During the walk from the townhouse to Ravenscourt Park, he asked the girls increasingly outrageous questions about how their days at school had been until they were giggling uncontrollably. When Vivian stopped to demand a piggyback ride and Abigail slipped her hand into his, he felt a surge of triumph. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Merlin was trailing behind much the way that Arthur had been on Halloween. Arthur wanted to feel smug, but something in the unhappy twist of Merlin's lips made Arthur’s stomach clench a bit. 

Arthur made sure to do his uncle duties by letting the girls eat chips and candy floss from the food stalls for dinner only feeling slightly bad when he ordered only for the three of them, leaving Merlin to fend for himself. 

“Alright, who wants to go on rides?” Arthur said, licking the salt off his fingers and throwing the paper tray into a bin. The girls practically dragged him to the funfair, where he shelled out an exorbitant amount of money for tickets. As the girls raced to find the best teacup to twirl in, Arthur smiled at them from the surrounding fence, pulling his phone out to snap a photo and send it to Morgana. 

As he was sliding the phone back into his pocket, Merlin, who he had actually managed to nearly forget about, appeared at his side. He glanced at the man, prepared to generously offer at least a smile, but did a double take when he saw Merlin’s face. His chin was stuck out and his blue eyes were blazing with anger -- so different from his usual patient, laughing self that Arthur actually took a step back.

“What is your problem with me anyway?” Merlin challenged him, stepping forward with a glance to make sure the girls were distracted by the ride. 

“W-what?” Arthur stammered, completely caught off guard by this assertive Merlin.

Merlin just glared at him for a moment, and Arthur was all too aware of both how close the man was, and that people were starting to stare. 

“I know what it is, I was just seeing if you’d have the bollocks to tell me to my face.” 

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Arthur was trying for haughty, but was well aware that he missed the mark and landed somewhere closer to squeaking. 

Merlin snorted. “Sure you don’t. I told Morgana to let me know if it would be a problem and she swore it wouldn’t be -- pretty clear she was wrong though.” 

“That what would be a problem?” Adrenaline was coursing through his body, but from this close, he couldn’t help but notice what nice eyelashes Merlin had. Long and dark, perfectly framing his eyes. He was so fascinated by them that he almost missed what Merlin said next. 

“That I’m gay.” 

When his brain caught up with what Merlin had said, he found himself laughing before he could think better of it. Merlin’s face twisted with rage. 

“It’s not funny, you bloody bigot,” Merlin started searching in his jacket pockets. “I’m calling Morgana.”

“No wait,” Arthur said quickly, grabbing his arm. Merlin looked as if he was seriously thinking about punching Arthur. “You’ve got it wrong, mate.”

“I’m not your mate,” Merlin bit off, tearing his arm free. “And I don’t think I have.” 

“You do,” Arthur said calmly. “Because I’m gay as well.” 

Arthur bit his lip as Merlin’s face went through several contortions then turned bright red -- he wanted to laugh but didn’t dare invoke the man’s rage again.

“Morgana didn’t say,” he said finally. 

“No?” That did surprise Arthur, as Morgana was constantly trying to set him up. 

“She just said that you didn’t really date, so I assumed … “ Merlin looked at him helplessly.

“You assumed what?” 

Arthur felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle and startled. 

“Uncle Arthur! Were you watching us? Did you see how fast we went?” Vivian asked excitedly.

Arthur had been so distracted by their confrontation that he hadn’t even heard the ride slowing down and stopping. But now the girls were back, and Abigail was looking back and forth between Arthur and Merlin with a thoughtful look on her face that Arthur didn’t care for. 

“I did!” he exclaimed, putting his arms around her and grinning. “Want to go again?” 

“Actually,” Merlin cut in, still looking wrong-footed. “I think it’s time for the children’s display if you want to go find a spot to watch?” 

Vivian whooped and started tugging at Arthur’s arm. He followed her along, not paying attention to where they were going as she led him through the crowd. His mind was still turning over the conversation he’d had with Merlin. He didn’t know whether he was more disturbed that Morgana had never mentioned Merlin’s sexuality to Arthur, or that she had never mentioned _his_ sexuality to Merlin. Usually she was only too eager to set him up, or to nag him about dating more. What was she playing at? 

The children’s fireworks was a blur of the girls ohhing and ahhing over the colorful displays punctuated by stealing glances at Merlin. As he watched the sparkling fountains, his mind drifted back to Morgana telling Merlin that he didn’t date. What the hell did she mean by that? Why, he’d gone on a date with that bloke from the IT office just … Arthur grimaced when he realised it had definitely been spring. Well, so what, he’d just had a busy summer, that was all. It wasn’t like he _didn’t_ date. 

By the time they awkwardly parted ways, with Merlin coaxing a pouting Vivian toward the entrance and Abigail begging Arthur to ride the bumper cars with her, he was determined to put this weird encounter behind him and get back into the dating game. Arthur looked over his shoulder as he was tugged toward the funfair, his eyes lingering on Merlin’s lanky form and the way that his eye crinkled up when he tried not to laugh at something Vivian had said. 

~ ❅ ~

In the weeks that followed, Arthur avoided going to Morgana and Leon’s on days Merlin was there and instead spent his evenings browsing his dating app, chatting to potential dates, and buried in work. By the end of November, he’d been on three first dates and had mostly managed to avoid seeing Merlin. He’d debated saying something to Morgana about the exchange, but didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

Merlin must not have said anything either, and the few times they had run into each other they had been mostly polite. The exception had been on Saturday when Arthur had popped into the playroom only to find Merlin cross legged beside Vivian, both of them staring at the television screen and holding controllers. Arthur had just enough time to see the blocky Minecraft scenery on the screen before Vivian leapt up and raced toward him to slam the door. 

“Don’t come in here!” she shouted. 

“Okay, okay!” Arthur said, trying to keep his tone light. Then he stomped down the stairs and found Morgana in the kitchen with Leon. 

“Why is he here on a Saturday?” he demanded. “Doesn’t he have a life?” 

Morgana raised one eyebrow at him, and he felt his face flush. 

“Speaking of which, how did your date go the other night.”

Arthur thought back to his dinner with a man who had seemed interested until he tried to show him a photo of the girls, at which point his eyes glazed over.

“It went fine,” he bit out, stealing a piece of one of the carrots she was slicing. “But that’s not the point.” 

Morgana shrugged as she continued chopping. “Viv wanted him to come over and help her with something.” 

Arthur tried to look neutral, but he knew he wasn’t fooling Morgana. She set down the knife and patted his cheek. He batted her hand away. 

“How’s everything going with the audit?” 

“Oh, I think we’ve got it well in hand,” she said, scooping up the carrots and dumping them into a bowl, which Leon immediately took and dumped back onto the cutting board. 

“Hey, I already sliced those!”

“I know, darling,” Leon replied, reaching around her to retrieve the knife. “And such a valiant attempt you made at it too.”

He set about slicing the carrots more evenly, ignoring Morgana’s mock glare, until finally she shrugged and looked to Arthur.

“Want some wine?” she asked, moving to the refrigerator. As soon as he grudgingly accepted, they heard footsteps on the stairs. “Want some wine, Merlin?” Morgana called.

“No, thanks, I’ve got to get going -- didn’t realise how late it was.” Merlin appeared at the entryway of the kitchen and held his bag between his knees while he shrugged into his jacket. “But I’ll see you Monday?”

“Come on, stay for dinner,” she cajoled. “Leon will cook most of it, I swear.”

“Oh no, I really can’t,” Merlin said. He was mostly refusing to look in Arthur’s direction, which annoyed him for some reason. 

“Yes, do stay, _Merlin_ ,” he said, learning on the counter. “You seem to be settling right in, may as well be part of the family.” 

“Arthur!” Morgana cried, looking genuinely annoyed. 

“What?” Arthur said, giving her his widest eyed innocent look. “Can’t I be welcoming too?”

Merlin, who had flushed red, shouldered his messenger bag, and muttered about having a meeting with his advisor, then fled. Morgana rounded on Arthur. 

“What did you do that for?” she demanded, retrieving her phone from the worktop and tapping into it furiously. “God, you can be such an arsehole. Just like --” 

“Morgana,” Leon cut her off with a hand to her elbow, but the comparison to Uther was already hanging in the air between them. Arthur slid off the stool he had perched on and headed toward the front door. 

“Arthur --” Morgana said, but he cut her off with a raised hand. 

“It’s fine -- seriously, Morgana. You’re right, okay? I’m just going to head back home but I’ll see you at the office.” 

He retreated so speedily that he was worried he might run into Merlin on the street, but there was no sign of him on the pavement outside. Arthur trudged toward his flat with an uncomfortable amalgamation of emotions roiling inside him. He was hurt at Vivian’s rejection and Morgana’s comparing him to Uther, but also mad at himself for being so mean-spirited toward Merlin. It reminded him of the way he’d been _before_ , when he’d lashed out at people every time he was feeling insecure. He stopped at the end of the block, deliberating. He’s made too much of a mess to go back to the house, but he could at least try to make it right. 

_I’m sorry I ruined the night … I don’t know what came over me._

Morgana’s reply came almost right away, in her rapid-fire style. 

_It’s fine_

_I’m sorry for what I said too. You’re nothing like him._

_You okay?_

_You’re welcome to come back here you know._

Arthur smiled to himself, already feeling a little better. 

_Nah, I’m bad company tonight. But I was wondering if I could have Merlin’s number? I’d like to apologize._

Arthur snorted at Morgana’s eyeball emoji, but she sent along the number without further comment. He debated texting over calling, but ultimately decided on the more personal approach -- still, he was a bit relieved when the call went to voicemail. He made it through an apology, stumbling more than he would have, then rang off, annoyed at himself all over again. By the time he made it back to his flat and had pulled out a frozen dinner, Merlin had replied. 

_Thanks, Arthur. I understand why you were upset, but I appreciate you making an effort. The girls are really lucky to have an uncle like you -- I don’t think you need to worry that anyone else is going to take your place._

Arthur, who had forgotten all about Merlin’s psychology studies, was feeling uncomfortably seen at the moment. He stared at the message for a long time, trying to decide whether or not to reply. In the end, he plugged the phone into its charger and settled at the table with a book, ignoring the little spark of warmth he felt. 

~ ❅ ~

After that, Arthur threw himself into work and tried not to think about Merlin, or his dating app, or anything but the company and the audit they needed to complete before they could launch the non-profit organization they’d been planning for nearly a decade. He knew he was starting to get on the nerves of this team, who had started taking longer and louder tea breaks as soon as the calendar flipped over to December, but he needed something to focus on that wasn’t his pathetic lack of a life. 

He finished his Christmas shopping early in December, and spent a Sunday morning helping Morgana wrap presents while Leon took the girls ice skating. Merlin was absent, Arthur was pleased to note -- tied up with something to do with his thesis, Morgana reported. Arthur wound up staying for dinner and watching some Christmas cartoon on the telly with the girls and went home feeling better and looking forward to the holiday

Every year the family traveled north for a week of Christmas fun and tradition in the family cottage where Morgana and Leon had been married. Arthur always looked forward to the break from reality and getting to spend so much time with his nieces. And this year he was particularly eager, as he knew that Morgana always gave her nannies two weeks off paid over the Christmas holidays. His animosity toward Merlin had cooled in the past month, but he was still looking forward to uninterrupted bonding time Abigail and Vivian.

As the day of their departure grew nearer and nearer, Arthur felt his mood improving steadily. To be honest it was a relief to be single -- the one year he had attempted to bring someone to the cottage for Christmas had been an unmitigated disaster ending with a very expensive cab ride back to London, and since then his reluctance to invite boyfriends for Christmas had led to at least one breakup. This year he had nothing to do but show up, enjoy spending time with his sister and brother-in-law, and spoil his nieces completely. 

He was so eager, in fact, that he volunteered to drive up to the cottage a day early to get everything opened up and the heating turned on. Morgana emailed him back approving the extra day off as long as he ran to the supermarket in town for shopping. The mile-long list attached made Arthur raise his eyebrows, but he was up for a challenge. 

He listened to Christmas music for the entire drive to help get himself into the spirit and the nearby village was charming, as always. Everywhere he went were Christmas decorations and the excited hum of the holiday in the air. He even managed to get everything on Morgana’s ridiculous list, even though he had to make four trips from the car to bring it all into the cottage. He hummed to himself as he loaded the cupboards and the fridge with food, feeling cosy and content. Reception was spotty at best in the cottage and Arthur was happy for a break, so he turned his phone off and enjoyed an evening with a quiet meal and a novel. After dinner he indulged in a soak in the extra deep bathtub, letting the hot water soak away the last of his stress. He called it an early night, curling up beneath a down duvet. By tomorrow everyone would be here, and he could put this irritating autumn behind him and enjoy the holiday. 

~ ❅ ~

Arthur wasn’t sure when exactly the rest of the family was due to arrive, so he puttered around in the morning, taking a walk around through the woodland path that winded across the property and bringing wood inside for the enormous two-sided fireplace. He was just debating whether he should eat lunch or wait, when he heard the sound of gravel crunching under tyres and stepped out of the cottage, ready to greet the family. 

He should have known right away that something was wrong, because before Leon had even come to a stop, Morgana threw open the passenger door of the black Land Rover and sprinted up the walkway to hug him. Arthur, feeling slightly touched at the display of affection, hugged her back. 

“Welcome to Christmas!” he said, but she pulled back and gripped his forearms. 

“I tried to call you. Please don’t freak out,” she pleaded, eyes desperate and slightly wild. 

“Wha--” Arthur’s mouth started to form the word and then stopped as his eyes traveled over Morgana’s shoulder to the car -- where Merlin was unfolding his lanky body from the back seat. 

Arthur’s eyes snapped back to Morgana’s. “No.”

“I can explain, I swear just don’t --” 

“What is he _doing_ here?” Arthur hissed, feeling anger creep into his voice. 

“I told you I’ll explain, but so help me God if you make a scene in front of the girls, I’ll--”

“You’ll what,” Arthur bit back scathingly. “Chuck me out?”

“Arthur,” Morgana pleaded. Their eyes locked, and Arthur felt his traitorous face twitch just enough to broadcast to Morgana exactly how upset he was. Her expression softened and she squeezed his arms. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.” 

Arthur pushed past her, carefully arranging his face. The girls had spotted him and were running up the walkway, their whoops of joy echoing off the pine trees. He swooped Vivian up into a hug, and felt a burst of genuine happiness when he saw his niece's excited faces. 

“Look at our tree!” Abigail crowed, gesturing to the evergreen strapped firmly on top of the Land Rover. Leon was fiddling with the knotted ropes that secured it and Merlin was standing beside him, laughing at whatever he was saying, but darting nervous looks in Arthur’s direction. 

“Mummy said _three_ naughty words while we were putting it on the car,” Vivian told Arthur solemnly. 

“Oh, did she now,” Arthur said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“No, I did _not_!” Morgana protested from behind them. 

“Yes, she did,” Vivian insisted. “She even said f--” 

“Shhhhh,” Arthur said, clapping his hand over her mouth and widening his eyes dramatically. “Father Christmas is listening.” 

Vivian’s eyes went wide as well, and Arthur removed his hand and tickled her until he squirmed to be let down. As she and Morgana raced up to the cottage’s entryway, Arthur turned to give Abigail a hug. Her dark eyes looked worried so Arthur gave her an extra squeeze. 

“You’ll be nice to Merlin, won’t you?” she blurted out in a low voice when he released her and Arthur blinked in surprise. He’d always been at least civil to Merlin in front of the girls, but then Abigail always had been observant. “I heard Mummy say you wouldn’t like that he was coming, but he didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Arthur highly doubted that, and part of him wanted to be petulant and say so. Instead he took a deep breath and walked past his niece to where Leon and Merlin were pulling at the tangle of knots. Merlin set his jaw as if preparing for a fight and the sight made Arthur feel slightly guilty. He really had been behaving like a bit of a prat to Merlin, but no matter -- he could make it right starting now. 

“Merlin!” he said, sticking out his hand and pasting on his most welcoming smile. “So nice that you could join us.”

Merlin looked at Arthur warily, but took his hand and shook it reflexively. 

“Oh, Arthur. Thank you,” Merlin glanced over at Leon for help, but he just smiled and clapped Arthur on the back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -- But Morgana --”

“No need to apologize,” Arthur said firmly, and was surprised to find that he meant it. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but you’re very welcome. Now do you need a real man to help here, or are you going to keep mangling this poor tree?” 

“Oi now,” Leon said, shaking a fist at Arthur. “We’ve just about got it ready to surrender.” 

Merlin seemed to relax a bit as the three of them tackled the tree, even joining in on the gentle banter. When Arthur glanced over his shoulder he saw Abigail beaming at him from the walkway and knew he had made the right decision.

He turned back to the car in time to help catch the tree as it rolled free of its confines and grunted at the heft of it. 

“I swear you go bigger every year, Leon,” Arthur complained, shifting his grip around the trunk. 

Leon shrugged.

“Got to please the missus.” 

Arthur snorted.

“Too much information, mate,” he said under his breath, and was surprised to hear Merlin’s quiet huff of laughter from where he had the tree gripped mid-trunk. Merlin was still avoiding eye contact, but Arthur saw that the tips of his ears had gone pink. It was so compelling that Arthur forgot to look away until he passed Morgana in the porch of the cottage. 

“Stop smiling,” he groused at her playfully as he passed, embarrassed at being caught staring. 

“No, I shan’t, it’s Christmas,” she replied, shutting the door behind them.

Vivian and Abigail were already into the cupboards that lined the main room, cooing and exclaiming over Christmas decorations as if they were long lost friends. 

“Find the tree holder first!” Leon called out to them, then to Arthur and Merlin, “Can you two manage this for a tick so I can help them along here?” 

Before they had time to reply, Leon and Morgana had crossed into the large open room to join the girls, leaving Merlin and Arthur standing awkwardly in the hall with the tree. Merlin didn’t seem to notice the awkwardness, however, as his jaw was hanging open. Arthur turned to look at the scene before him, trying to see the familiar place through a stranger’s eyes. 

He supposed that “cottage” was really a bit of a misnomer, as the house was anything but rustic. It did have a stone cottage style exterior, but the interior -- while still simple -- had been updated to have every modern convenience. The utility room where he and Merlin were currently standing was spacious and stocked with outdoors gear, and opened into an airy, high ceilinged main room with wood beams that continued through the bright walls and white trim. To the right of the main room was a double-sided fireplace, which separated the chef’s kitchen and adjoining dining room from the large living area. The opposite wall was floor to ceiling windows, affording a view of the surrounding woods, with French doors leading to a balcony that overlooked the stream that bordered the property. Near the back of the living area, there was a television mounted to one wall and a long, comfortable-looking sectional sofa that curled around to separate the space. 

Arthur also knew that there were two downstairs bedrooms down a hall to the right, past the kitchen -- one that he had claimed, and the other, typically used for guests, he supposed would go to Merlin. The upstairs loft had a balcony and charmingly slanted ceilings was where Leon, Morgana and the girls would sleep. He shifted in place, suddenly aware of just how posh it must look to Merlin and had to break the silence. 

“There’s a very strict schedule, did they tell you?”

“Huh?” Merlin asked, tearing his eyes away from the admittedly quite ostentatious light fixture that Morgana had insisted upon when they remodeled the main room. 

“Here. For Christmas,” Arthur tried to clarify. “Today’s decorating day, tomorrow is the Soirée --” 

“Oh, yes!” Merlin said, focusing back on Arthur with a tentative smile. “They did start to tell me a bit about that, only -- well, it sort of turned into a whole conversation about food, so we’re all starving now.”

“Well, Morgana certainly had me stock up, so if they ever find the -- ah! Got it!” 

Abigail waved the tree holder triumphantly over her head and raced to where the tree was usually set up against the wall. 

“Shall we?” Leon said, returning to heft the front of the evergreen. 

“After you,” Arthur responded, adjusting his grip.

Half an hour later, Arthur was still lying on the floor covered in pine needles and fiddling with the twisting metal bits whilst Morgana and Merlin walked in slow circles inspecting the angle of the trunk and debating whether it was leaning. 

After the third time Morgana had made a variation of _that’s about as straight as you,_ Arthur huffed impatiently, which managed to hurry things along. He left the group to their renewed debates about which side was the ugliest (and thus had to face the wall) and wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. After he had downed a full glass and refilled it again, he gazed out the window into the sweep of evergreen boughs that lined the stream. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unhappiness, even though he was glad to be here with his family. Once again, having Merlin around threw things off just the slightest bit and pushed him to the side just enough to remind him that he wasn’t actually a part of their family. And while he had spent most of the autumn angry at Merlin for the encroachment, he found that now it just made him feel sad.

He heard footsteps behind him and realised that he’d been starting out the window over the sink for longer than he’d meant to. He turned around, expecting to see Morgana, but it was Merlin hovering at the other side of the dark granite island. 

“They sent me to be sure you’re alive,” he said, an apologetic half-smile playing at his lips. “We’ve been calling you -- apparently you’re needed to help Leon with the lights?”

“Oh -- right,” Arthur said, rubbing his hands against his trousers. “I was just getting together some snacks.” 

Arthur tried not to wince when Merlin’s eyes swept the counter, which was empty, but all Merlin said was, “Well, can I help you then?” 

Between them they managed to put together some sandwiches, fruit, and crackers on a platter to bring around to the main room, where the boxes of Christmas decorations seemed to have multiplied, and Leon was wrestling with a string of fairy lights. Arthur found he was able to put on a happy face for the rest of the afternoon as they transformed the space. He helped Leon untangle the lights and secure them on the tree, as well as around the walls. He joined in on heated debates about which ornaments should go where and was secretly pleased when Abigail thanked him for making her sandwich the way she liked it. Hours later, when the house was decorated to Morgana’s discerning tastes, he found himself feeling slightly better. 

Arthur saw Leon eyeing the kitchen and quickly offered to take the girls outside for some fresh air while the rest of them got dinner started. Morgana eyed him, seeing through his plan to stick Merlin with the pizza dough kneading, but she agreed readily and rounded Merlin and Leon into the kitchen. 

Outside, evening had long since fallen but the streambank was lined with bollard lights and the moon was glowing overhead, not quite full yet but still providing some light. The night was chilly, but the girls didn’t mind as they raced ahead of Arthur along the path, their breaths puffing out ahead of them. After they walked the loop and found themselves back in the side garden, Vivian started an impromptu game of tag that had them all shrieking and darting in and out of the small rectangle of light from the kitchen window. By the time Merlin appeared on the deck to call them in for dinner, the trio was out of breath and their cheeks were rosy with cold and laughter. 

Arthur’s good mood continued through dinner, during which the girls fought over who got to sit next to him and ate delicious pizza that he hadn't had to knead whilst listening to Leon and Morgana bicker about toppings. Merlin, on the other hand, was starting to look a little overwhelmed. He ate quietly and didn’t contribute much to the boisterous dinner conversation. After they cleared up from dinner and had put away the last of the empty boxes of decorations, the girls dragged Morgana upstairs to get their gifts to put under the tree. Leon followed cheerfully with a holdall under each arm, threatening to shake all the boxes with his name on them, and once again Arthur found himself alone with Merlin. 

“What’s next?” Merlin said when he met Arthur’s eye, and Arthur couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his weary resignation. 

“Thought you’d be used to this by now, since you’re with them every day,” Arthur said, retrieving the unfamiliar overnight bag that he guessed was Merlin’s from where it had been left by the wall. 

“Not _every_ day -- and it’s usually just the girls, I don’t see Morgana as much,” Merlin answered, taking the bag with a smile when Arthur handed it to him. 

“Ah, well. This does tend to be the Morgana and Leon show, and we’re just the lucky sods with front row seats,” Arthur said, then gestured. “Come on, I’ll show you your room, since I’m sure Morgana forgot.” 

He led Merlin through the kitchen and down the hall to the guest rooms. He’d already taken the one furthest down the hall, so he stopped at the first door on the right, pushed open the door and flicked on the lights. 

“Sorry,” he said, feeling his frustration with Morgana’s last minute invitation rising again. Even if he didn’t particularly want Merlin here, he hated looking like a bad host. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have made up the bed, but I think we’ve got some sheets and a duvet cover in the cupboard here -- ah yes.” 

He stood awkwardly for a moment with the sheets in his hand, wondering if he should be making the bed up in front of Merlin -- which felt strangely intimate -- or asking him to step back into the hall for a moment. Luckily Merlin rescued him by pulling the linens from his hands and insisting he could make up the bed himself. 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Arthur said, backing toward the door awkwardly and checking his watch. “Uh … tonight is the first of three film nights. Pyjamas and popcorn consumption are mandatory. We should be meeting on the sofa in about fifteen minutes or so. I’m two doors down if you need anything, and there’s a bathroom between us with a really cracking bath, if you want to have a soak.” 

Arthur was babbling and Merlin's ears were turning pink again for some reason, so he decided to shut up and retreat to his room before he had time to think about it any more. He changed quickly into his pyjamas, thankful that he had brought a nicer set than the tatty joggers and uni T-shirt that he usually slummed around his flat in. There was a tap at the door and Arthur barely had time to wonder what Merlin could need already when Morgana slipped in, shutting the door behind her. She was dressed in creamy white fleece pyjamas with her face scrubbed free of make-up and her long hair in a plait down her back. To Arthur, it made her look exactly as she had when she was Abigail’s age, and he couldn’t help but smile as she crawled onto the end of his bed and sat cross-legged, just as she always had back when they were kids. 

“Thanks for showing Merlin his room,” she said, tucking her feet underneath her. “I may have gotten a little distracted.” 

Arthur snorted and flopped into the desk chair facing her. “Well, I always have had better manners than you.”

Morgana smirked. “Why do you think I send you to all the dinner meetings at work?”

They laughed for a moment, then Morgana took a breath and looked Arthur in the eye. 

“I’m sorry that I invited Merlin without talking to you first.”

“It’s fine,” Arthur said. “It’s your family Christmas.” 

“No,” Morgana corrected. “It’s _our_ family Christmas. I should have checked with you first. I know that you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot --” 

“Definitely not,” Arthur agreed. 

“-- but, well.” She sighed and pulled her legs up in front of her so she could wrap her arms around them. “I asked about his Christmas plans. You know, he lost his mother the summer before last and he told me that going home last year was so difficult for him that he was just going to stay in his flat this year and work on his thesis.” 

“And then you blurted out an invitation before you could help yourself?”

Morgana smiled at him.

“And then I blurted out an invitation before I could help myself,” she agreed. 

The room fell silent for a moment. Arthur rubbed a hand across his face wearily -- he could picture the scene so well. Merlin had probably tried to resist, but once Morgana had the idea in her head there was no turning her away, Arthur knew that.

“You remember what it was like that first Christmas after Dad died,” Morgana said softly, her dark eyes filling with tears. 

Arthur, who had developed a sympathetic crying response in family therapy, felt his throat tighten and tears prickle at the back of his eyes as well. He started to speak, but his voice cracked a bit and he cleared his throat. 

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, all right. I’d have done the same. I didn’t know about his mum though, that’s shit.”

“I didn’t either until two days ago,” Morgana replied, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her pyjamas. “I’m just glad he told me so that he didn’t have to be alone. Thank you, by the way, for being so kind to him today. I didn’t expect that.”

“Yes, well,” Arthur said, straightening in his chair. “It’s Christmas after all. Don’t expect any other gifts.”

Morgana reached over and shoved at his shoulder, then slid off the bed.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, shall we?” she asked. 

As they made their way back to the living room, Merlin’s door popped open and he peeked out tentatively. Arthur grinned when he saw that Merlin was wearing the same combination of well-worn joggers and university hoodie that Arthur himself had nearly packed. He was also wearing a pair of black framed glasses, having apparently taken his contacts out for the film. He should look like the giant nerd that he was, but Arthur couldn't help but notice that instead the combination was rather adorable. 

Arthur stumbled over his own feet when he realised the thought that had just gone through his head. Morgana, who had linked arms with Merlin and was pulling him toward the living room, looked over her shoulder at Arthur with an amused look that made him feel as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. He tore his eyes away and made a beeline for the sofa once they entered the living room. Abigail and Vivian were already curled up in blankets, so he vaulted over the back of the sofa and flopped beside them, sending them shrieking with laughter when he had to flail to save himself from sliding off the slippery leather and landing on the floor.

Leon returned from the kitchen with two bowls of popcorn, and Arthur grabbed a handful as he set them down. They went through the usual debates about seating arrangements, Vivian finally declaring that she wanted to sit between Arthur and Merlin, while Abigail wanted to sit between her parents. Arthur and Morgana took their places at the middle of the sofa, and everyone spent several more moments arranging themselves and the array of fleece blankets. Eventually they had settled into a cosy nest with a bowl of popcorn on the lap of each daughter and dimmed the lights.

The first film night was Vivian’s choice, and as always she had chosen The Muppet Christmas Carol, which Arthur didn’t mind because it was short and relatively funny for a children’s film. By the middle of the film, Arthur had mostly shaken the thoughts of Merlin looking adorable out of his head -- he’d even managed to avoid reaching for popcorn at the same time as him after one close call near the opening credits. But then Vivian started to squirm in place and crawled over Arthur, pushing at him with her feet until he slid down the couch and she settled on his other side, tucking herself under Morgana’s arm. 

Arthur tried to stay as close to her side as possible, but after a moment she squirmed again. 

“Move _down_ , Uncle Arthur, you’re squishing me.”

“Manners,” Morgana said, her eyes never leaving the screen. 

“ _Please_ ,” Vivian huffed, and Arthur reluctantly slid down the sofa until he was pressed beside Merlin. 

Merlin, who had previously been showing signs of dozing off even though it was only eight, now stiffened beside Arthur. Arthur watched carefully from the corner of his eye as Merlin straightened his glasses in a practiced gesture that told Arthur he’d been wearing them for a long time. Arthur swallowed and turned his eyes back to the screen, only to feel the jab of an elbow coming from his other side. 

When he glanced at Morgana, she just raised one eyebrow suggestively. 

“No,” he hissed, leaning closer to her ear. 

“Hmm. But maybe,” she whispered back, then gave a muffled shriek when Arthur reached over to tweak her ear. 

“Siblings,” Leon stage whispered to Merlin. Arthur and Morgana just grinned at one another, Arthur shaking his head as Abigail shushed them all.

When he settled back in his spot, he found that leaning over toward Morgana had shifted him down the sofa even closer to Merlin -- which had probably been her intention the entire time, he realised belatedly. This time though, Merlin seemed more relaxed and when Arthur risked a glance at him, he gave Arthur a small smile. Arthur, grateful for the darkness that would hide any signs of heat rising to his face, turned his eyes back to the movie and kept them there for the rest of the evening as Merlin’s warm thigh pressed ever-so-slightly against his. 

~ ❅ ~

The next morning, Arthur was expertly flipping pancakes when Merlin staggered blearily into the kitchen. Vivian was sitting on the worktop -- far closer to the hob than Morgana would have allowed -- and chattering excitedly about last night's film, whilst Arthur did his best to both listen intently and not burn the pancakes. 

“Hi Merlin!” she chirped, swinging her feet so that her heels banged against the cupboards below. “Uncle Arthur’s making us breakfast!”

“Good morning,” Arthur said. He was both relieved and disappointed to see that Merlin was back in his contacts. “There’s coffee in the pot, help yourself. Or the kettle’s just boiled if you fancy a brew? Abigail’s drawing in the dining room if you prefer quiet.” 

Merlin didn’t speak, but headed directly for the coffee pot and frowned, until Arthur pulled a mug from the tree and offered it to him. Arthur continued chatting with Vivian, but watched from the corner of his eye as Merlin put a tooth-rotting amount of sugar in his coffee then sipped it meditatively. Instead of heading into the dining room like Arthur expected, he hovered next to Vivian.

“Sleep okay?” Arthur asked, pouring a fresh round of batter into the pan. 

“Yeah, great, thanks,” Merlin said absently. “Where are Morgana and Leon?” 

“Sleeping in,” Arthur said, making a face at Vivian, who giggled. “It’s part of my Christmas gift to them every year.” 

“They could have asked me,” Merlin said. “Then you all could have slept in.” 

“Nah, you’re a guest,” Arthur replied, peeking under the edge of the pancake for doneness. “Besides, you don’t exactly seem like a morning person.” 

Merlin huffed a laugh. “I’m usually not this bad, but I’ve been working long hours on my thesis lately, so I guess I’m working off a deficit.” 

“Merlin, I want to give you a hug,” Vivian interrupted and held out her arms. Merlin wrapped one arm around her, making sure to keep the coffee far out of reach. 

“Morgana mentioned you were getting your doctorate -- what are you studying again?” 

“Clinical child psychology,” Merlin said, smiling wryly at him over Vivian’s shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. 

“What’s that?” 

“Kids’ brains,” he told her seriously, and she pushed him away. 

“Ewww! Gross!” she declared before running into the dining room. 

Merlin laughed to himself as he leaned back against the worktop. 

“Is that why you nanny?” Arthur asked, turning out the pancake and carefully adding more batter. “Are you doing some kind of weird experiment on them?” 

He worried for a moment that the joke might come off sounding accusatory, but Merlin laughed. 

“Nah. I just like kids,” Merlin said, studying his coffee mug. “I study mostly the effects of parental neglect, so I work with kids that have been in horrible situations. It’s nice to spend some time with happy kids too.” 

“Are you almost done with the degree?”

“Nearly -- I’ve gathered all the observational research I need, now I’m just stuck in statistics hell.” 

“That I can commiserate on. I don’t know if Morgana told you, but I do investment analysis for our business.” 

“No, she didn’t mention,” Merlin said, looking amused. “In that case, I might have to pick your brain sometime.”

“Of course,” Arthur said with a small shrug. “Just not on holiday.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Merlin smiled. “Speaking of which -- what’s on the agenda for today? I heard something about a party?” 

“Ah, yes. Today is the Christmas party, which starts at four. Morgana and Leon should be down, looking disgustingly well shagged, at around ten and it’ll be hours of chaotic kitchen prep from then until we start serving cocktails.” 

“Well, I’m looking forward to the cocktails at least,” Merlin said, pulling a face. “But do people from the city really come all the way out here?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Arthur replied, adding the pancake into the dish to keep warm in the oven. “Morgana's parties are tamer than they used to be, but still pretty legendary. We have some family friends who stop by, as well as a lot of coworkers who car share up for the afternoon. Plus we have some local friends from when we spent summers here as kids that still like to stop in for some of Morgana’s Christmas punch.” 

“Sounds nice,” Merlin said, watching as Arthur poured another pancake out and refilled batter into the pan. “I guess I’ll enjoy the peace while we’ve got it then. Do you need a hand with those?” 

“Nah, I’ve got it under control. If you want to have the girls help you set the table, I should be done soon.” 

Usually Arthur enjoyed this morning meal with just his nieces, but when he settled down with his plate, he found that he didn’t mind Merlin’s presence as much as he would have last week. It felt cosy with the four of them at one end of the long oak table as the sun peeked up over the frosted streambank outside, and it was nice to have an extra set of hands when it came to cutting up food and running to the kitchen for more orange juice. 

After breakfast, Abigail begged them to do a drawing challenge.

“She hasn’t asked you to do one before?” Arthur asked, slightly smug but genuinely surprised. “One person is the judge and gets to pick what we all draw for that round. Then all the drawings are judged blindly and get points based on first, second, third, et cetera. Then it’s someone else’s turn to judge. When we’ve all had a turn at judging, the one with the most points wins.” 

Merlin looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Let me get more coffee, then explain it again.” 

Merlin turned out to be atrocious at drawing, much to the delight of everyone at the table. Arthur couldn’t hold back his laughter as Merlin displayed his uneven Christmas tree the first round, then a horse that looked like a lumpy dog the second round. They were in the middle of arguing over his “Uncle Arthur” drawing -- Arthur pointed out that the head was bigger than the body, Merlin insisted it was a perfect likeness -- when he looked up and saw Morgana smirking at him from the doorway. He stopped speaking immediately, but the damage was done. Merlin followed his gaze to Morgana and then snatched his drawing back from Arthur, his cheeks turning pink. 

“My turn to prompt,” Arthur announced, setting a fresh sheet of paper in front of all of them. “Everyone draw a wicked witch.”

“Hey,” Morgana protested from the kitchen. “Just for that, Merlin’s going to take the girls outside to play. You’re on kitchen duty.”

~ ❅ ~

“He was watching you too, you know.” 

Arthur dropped the knife he was washing into the sink where it clattered loudly. 

“God … don’t sneak up on me like that, I could have cut my hand off,” he complained to Morgana. She just smiled sweetly, dumping a pile of fresh basil onto the worktop beside him and following his gaze. Through the window over the sink, they could see Merlin and the girls playing in the side garden. They had engineered a game in which they had to hop on one leg to each other -- Merlin’s face was scrunched up in concentration and his lanky arms flapped wildly to catch his balance. The girls were practically rolling with laughter. 

In the kitchen, a silence filled only by the sound of the water running in the sink spread between Arthur and Morgana, until finally Arthur caved.

“Was he?” he asked gruffly. 

“So you _do_ like him,” Morgana beamed at him. “I was beginning to wonder whether that thing still worked.” 

“ _Morgana_!”

“I _meant_ your heart,” she said, rolling her eyes and setting about chopping. “And to answer your question: yes, he was. Watching, that is. He took at least five minutes washing a single plate with a soppy look on his face whilst you were out romping with the girls. I didn’t say anything to him though.”

“How nice that must have been for him,” Arthur said, drying the knife and returning it to the cutting board on the island worktop. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were … you know. Ready,” Morgana said, ignoring his comment. 

“What do you mean, ‘ready’?” Arthur asked, cracking the oven open to check on the stuffed mushrooms. 

“Arthur, please,” Morgana replied, frowning at the unevenly chopped basil. “We both know that you’ve only been dating men who are incompatible with you because you’re afraid that no one will actually want to settle down and play at happy families.” She had apparently decided that the basil was good enough and had moved to sprinkle it on top of the tomato and mozzarella bruschetta. “I like Merlin, but I’m not going to encourage this until I know for sure that you aren’t just going to play games with him.” 

“Christ, Morgana,” Arthur said, slamming the tray of mushrooms onto the worktop. Morgana protested as several mushrooms rolled off the cooking sheet, but Arthur just whirled on her. “Who said anything about playing happy families? Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

Morgana, who had developed an irritating ability to remain unruffled through Arthur’s emotional outbursts, finished fiddling with the crostini and glanced at the clock. 

“We ought to start getting ready -- can you call them in?” 

“Call them in yourself,” Arthur replied, throwing the oven gloves onto the worktop and storming off down the hall. 

~ ❅ ~

Arthur took an extra long time in the shower, letting the steam and hot water calm his temper and his nerves. Part of him knew Morgana was right about his self-sabotage, but it was easier to focus on that than to think about Merlin. Merlin was supposed to be the enemy -- Arthur hadn’t needed to worry about starting his own family, because he knew he’d always have a place in Morgana’s -- until Merlin had come along and showed him how replaceable he was. 

As Arthur finished dressing, he heard Morgana start the stereo system, and the soothing sounds of Christmas music drifted down the hall. He gazed out the window for a moment, taking in the last fading bits of sunset grasping at the bare tree branches on the horizon. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, holding each one for seven seconds before slowly letting it out again. Nothing had to be decided tonight, he reminded himself. He could just take the advice of the carol -- let his heart be light. 

Thinking that he really ought to go out and help Leon and Morgana with last minute set-up, he swung open his door and started toward the living room only to see Abigail sitting in the hallway, her back against the wall and knees drawn up to her chest. Merlin was crouched beside her facing him, and as Arthur moved closer Merlin caught his eye and shook his head slightly. Arthur obeyed him instinctively, shuffling backward into the dark bathroom but hovering in the doorway to listen.

Abigail was clearly upset, and Merlin was speaking to her in a soothing tone. 

“I just don’t want to open presents in front of anyone,” Abigail said, sounding slightly hysterical.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Merlin assured her. “No one’s going to make you do anything that you don’t want to do. But what’s going on, why don’t you want to open presents?”

“I just don’t like everyone looking at me and I don’t know how to react,” Abigail’s voice broke a bit and Arthur could tell that the tears she was fighting had won out. 

“Oh Abs,” Merlin said. Despite his concern, Arthur still bristled a bit to hear Merlin using his pet name for his niece. “All you have to say is thank you, that’s all people are expecting. These are all friends of you and your Mum who love you.”

“I _know_ that. But I still don’t want to open anything in front of them. I just don’t want them looking at me.” 

“I can understand that, and it makes sense. You’re definitely not the only one who feels nervous talking in front of people. Even I feel nervous talking in front of a lot of people.”

Abigail sniffled. “You do?” 

“Of course I do! In uni I have to stand up in front of people and give talks all the time, and I always get nervous right before.” 

“So what do you do?” 

“Well, I like to pretend I’m a thought detective -- do you know what a detective is?”

“Like Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes, exactly! Except instead of looking for clues to solve a mystery, I’m trying to figure out where the bad feelings are coming from. For me, I’m usually nervous when I’m making a presentation because I’m afraid that I’ll say something wrong or that someone will ask a question I don’t know the answer to. But then I think ‘why am I afraid of those things?’ And I know it’s because I want to do a really good job explaining my ideas. So once I see that the worry is coming from a good place, it’s easier for it to not feel so bad. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of. So, maybe my worry is coming from not wanting to hurt people’s feelings?” Abigail asked tentatively.

“Well, I can’t answer for you, but that sounds like it makes sense. So it’s a good worry, because you want to be polite.” 

“Yeah,” Abigail said, sounding like she was warming up to the idea. “But then how do you stop the worrying?”

“Hmm, that is the tricky part,” Merlin said. “I try to ask myself, what’s the worst thing that could happen? And then I try to think of the answers. Like if someone asks me a question that I don’t know, I could just tell them that I don’t know. Or I could tell them that I need to look up the answer and that I’ll let them know later.”

There was a moment of silence during which Arthur considered stepping out, but knew that Abigail took after the Pendragons in that if she was feeling vulnerable, she’d prefer as few people see it as possible. At length, Abigail spoke again. 

“I guess I could say something rude by accident and hurt someone’s feelings. And they could get mad at me.”

“That could happen. But I know that your Mum and Dad have taught you lots about manners -- has anything like that happened before?”

“No,” Abigail admitted. “But ... I’m still worried that it might.”

“And that worry is coming from a good place of not wanting to be rude,” Merlin agreed. “How about this -- maybe we can ask your Mum if this year, you can put some of the gifts you get under the tree for Christmas. That way, you can open them in private and then send a thank you note later? Think she’d go for that?”

“Maybe. We usually put the family presents under the Christmas tree during the party as well.” 

“Why don’t you run and ask her now, before anyone gets here,” Merlin said. 

“Okay,” Abigail replied, and Arthur heard the shuffling sounds of them getting to their feet and then, muffled as though through a hug, “Thanks, Merlin.” 

“You’re welcome,” Merlin replied, his voice warm with affection. “Go talk to your Mum, and then I’ll be there in a moment to talk to her too.”

Arthur waited until Abigail’s footsteps retreated down the hall before he stepped out of the bathroom. Merlin was waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall in a soft looking grey jumper and khaki trousers. Arthur tried to ignore the fact that his heart rate sped up when Merlin smiled softly at him.

“Hi,” he said. “Thanks for giving us a minute, I’m sure you’d rather have talked to her yourself.” 

“No, no,” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean -- it’s fine. You’re the expert after all.”

Merlin laughed. 

“Well, I’m hardly the expert in nine year old girls, but I suppose no one is.” 

“Is she okay though? Do you think?” Arthur asked. He was hoping for immediate assurance, but Merlin just sighed and rubbed at his temple. 

“I’m going to talk to Morgana,” he said. “She’s been a little moody lately -- I think she may actually be going through puberty early, and all those hormones can do weird things to mental health. She should probably at least bring her to the GP to talk about it. But nothing to worry about,” he added, seeing the concern that Arthur was sure was pinching his face. “Very normal for that age and very manageable if we get a handle on it early. If _you_ all get a handle on it, I should say.” Merlin shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted his gaze to the floor. 

“Thank you,” Arthur said sincerely. “Everything you said to her, that was just so -- yeah. You handled it better than I could have. I’m glad you were here. The kids are lucky to have you around.” 

Merlin’s face softened and he glanced back up.

“Thanks, Arthur. That means a lot coming from you.” 

For some reason that Arthur didn’t care to examine too closely, the sound of his name falling from Merlin’s lips was a bit entrancing, but Merlin continued. 

“But you know, they’re lucky to have you too. There’s loads of studies about how having non-parental adults invested in a child’s life has so many markers for later success. I think it’s really great how invested you are in them.”

“Probably more than I ought to be,” Arthur said, feeling embarrassed suddenly. 

Merlin was shaking his head and had opened his mouth to protest when Abigail came dashing back down the hall. 

“Merlin!” she called, coming to a stop in front of him. She looked back and forth between him and Arthur for just a moment, then focused her attention back on Merlin. 

“Mum wants to talk to you.”

“I bet she does,” Merlin said, smiling at Arthur again. “We can finish this conversation later, if you like?”

“Yeah, sure,” Arthur said. Abigail looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before tugging Merlin back toward the living room. 

Alone in the hallway, Arthur took a couple of deep breaths to sort out the blur of emotions he was feeling -- anxiety about Abigail, both jealousy and appreciation toward Merlin, curiosity about what he had been about to say. In the living room, the music had switched to jazzy renditions of Christmas classics. While Arthur gave name to each emotion and re-centered himself, he let himself be buoyed up by the festive sound. 

By the time Arthur had made his way to the main room, he found that Gwen had arrived early, as usual, and she and Morgana embracing warmly. As they pulled back, Morgana took bags of gifts out of Gwen’s hands and promised to get her a drink. Arthur could see Lance in the porch, where he finished tugging coats and scarfs off their sons before releasing them into the house. He always felt slightly awkward around Gwen, as she’d been the last woman he had valiantly tried to be straight for before deciding he was definitely only interested in dating men. But when she saw him hovering by the kitchen, she just smiled. 

“Arthur!” she exclaimed, throwing her an arm around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Gosh, I haven’t seen you in ages it feels like! How was New York?” 

“No shop talk,” Leon scolded, emerging from the kitchen with two trays of appetizers.

“Who’s talking shop?” Gwen protested as Lance joined her and slid an arm around her waist before offering his hand to Arthur. “I don’t care about the audit, I just wanted to know if you did anything fun!”

“Arthur? Fun? Please,” Morgana said, handing Gwen a cocktail and grabbing one of the crostini from the tray as Leon moved by. “His idea of fun is staying up late to prove the auditors wrong. Lance, do you want anything?” 

“In that case, I did have a lot of fun,” Arthur said, elbowing Morgana good-naturedly. Lance asked for water and Morgana flitted away again. “And New York was lovely, Gwen, thanks for asking. How are the kids?”

“Oh, they’re doing wonderfully, yeah. Everyone’s happy and healthy and Ewan is learning to --” Gwen cut herself off as eyes instinctively drifted to the far corner of the room where the children were set up with art and crafts and board games. “Merlin? Oh my god, Morgana, you didn’t tell me he was coming! Excuse me.”

Gwen dashed across the room, setting her drink on an end table as she went. Merlin had stood up awkwardly, but the smile that broke across his face was so warm and genuine that Arthur’s guts twisted again. He watched for a moment as the two embraced, Gwen actually bouncing up and down excitedly as she took Merlin’s arm and dragged him to a sofa. Lance smiled at Arthur wryly which made him laugh. 

“Sorry mate -- looks like that’s it for you. I think I’m for a drink actually -- are you sure I can’t get you anything other than water?” 

Lance declined and seemed keen to lure his wife back, so Arthur drifted toward the bar area and eyed the punch. Leon appeared at his side with an ice bucket and said, “Be careful with that, she made it extra strong this year.” 

“How is that even possible?” Arthur wondered aloud, pushing aside the floating orange slices and cranberries to scoop some into his glass. “Is it pure alcohol?” 

Leon made a face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Can you help me bring the rest of the food out?”

Arthur and Leon got to work assembling the charcuterie board, which was then reassembled when Morgana stopped by to examine it. Leon eventually left to get out the hot appetizers, while Arthur and Morgana arranged the fresh herbs and sprigs of holly among the stacks of meat, fanned cheese, artfully circled crackers, and little bowls of pickles and fruit. By the time everything was to Morgana’s liking, more guests had started to arrive. Morgana gave Arthur firm instructions to watch and refill anything that needed refilling before heading to the door to greet guests with Leon. 

Once she had gone, Arthur took out his phone and snapped a photo of the board so he could remember how the hell everything was arranged, then drifted awkwardly toward the center of the room. He retrieved his drink from where he had set it, taking a moment to return Gwen’s to her as well. He tried not to feel hurt when Merlin waved away his offer of a drink, barely looking up from where he was gossiping about a mutual acquaintance with Gwen. Arthur remembered that Morgana had connected with Merlin through Gwen, of course, but he hadn’t realised they were _this_ close. Merlin obviously knew Lance as well, and he made a point to include him in the conversation, making him laugh as much as Gwen was. Arthur hovered for a moment, and was thankful when Morgana called him over to greet some colleagues. 

Arthur loved the tradition of the Christmas party -- which was apparently something that his mother and father had done when she was still alive -- and always had a reasonably good time at them, but the event was undeniably Morgana and Leon’s. When the children had been younger, Arthur had mostly taken care of them whilst Leon and Morgana let loose for the night, but as their family had grown and they had gotten more settled, it seemed that many of their friends had too. Nowadays the party tended to be filled with couples, several of them with children, rather than child-free newlyweds and boisterous singles. It made for a more sedate, although no less fun, evening. 

Arthur was happy to see that Gwaine, a member of his team, had arrived -- although less happy to see that he had somehow managed to find a girlfriend for the holidays, once again leaving Arthur the odd man out. Luckily, Elena turned out to be as extraverted and friendly as they came and soon the three of them were sharing drinks and making fun of the charcuterie board. 

“Mate, you’d better not let my sister hear you saying that,” Arthur laughed after Gwaine pointed out that one of the fancy salad greens looked like something you’d be better off smoking. 

“Sister?” Elena said, turning on Arthur wide-eyed. “Morgana’s your sister.”

“Er -- yes? Gwaine didn’t tell you?”

“Oh, he probably did but I don’t listen when he’s talking all that work faff. I’m surprised though -- you spend Christmas here with her and her family?”

“Yes,” Arthur was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, but Elena didn’t seem to notice. 

“That’s great though! I mean, I can’t stand my sister -- always sticking her nose in, telling me how to live my life. She drives me mad. I’m always amazed when I see siblings getting along.” 

“And thank fuck they do,” Gwaine said, holding up his glass of punch to click against Arthur’s. “You do a damn good job running the company, that’s for sure. Like a well oiled machine, the two of you are.” 

Arthur made a face that had all three of them laughing again. “Cheers Gwaine, have we reached the arse-kissing portion of the evening already?”

Gwaine waggled his eyebrows at Elena so lasciviously that she burst into giggles and Arthur chose to excuse himself. After he made a trip to the kitchen to replenish the areas of the charcuterie board that had been picked at, he scanned the room, hoping to find Merlin on his own. 

The party had really taken off while he’d been ensconced with Gwaine and Elena -- the main room was now filled with people talking and laughing as children darted occasionally through the crowd. Morgana had turned the music up a little and refilled the punchbowl and the party had reached that sparkly point where everything was a little too loud and a little too grand. Arthur spotted Merlin still talking to Gwen and started toward them only to be intercepted by Alice from town, who had been a summer nanny to Morgana and him when they were children. By the time he had been caught up on the state of her rheumatism and the accomplishments of each of a dozen grandchildren, he saw that Gwen was now chatting to someone else and Merlin was nowhere to be seen. 

He moved to Gwen with the intention of casually asking where Merlin had gone when he got close enough to see the man she was talking to and froze. He briefly considered making a retreat, but Elyan had already spotted him and smiled, waving him over. Arthur groaned inwardly but smiled back and joined the group, preparing for an awkward conversation. Not that Gwen or Elyan ever said anything to make him uncomfortable, but every time he remembered that he’d had the dubious honor of dating both of the siblings with equally disastrous results, it usually left him wishing that the ground would swallow him whole. Elyan was perfectly polite, as always, though he always made a point of asking Arthur if he was seeing anyone. His boyfriend Percy -- whose thigh was roughly as thick as Arthur’s waist -- opted for the less subtle route of squeezing Arthur’s hand tighter than strictly necessary when they shook.

Arthur tried to stay engaged in polite small talk whilst also scanning the room for Merlin, but only succeeded in catching the eye of a junior member of his team who seemed only too eager to haul his plus one over to try and make a good impression. 

From there the rest of the evening spun on, apparently determined to keep Arthur and Merlin apart. After Arthur had finished a long conversation with Mordred and his shy girlfriend, he saw Merlin laughing with Gwaine and Elena across the room. But before he could make it to them, Leon corralled him into setting out another round of hot appetizers. By the time he made it back to Gwaine and Elena, Merlin had moved on. Arthur meant to keep looking, but Gwaine handed him another glass of punch and started telling work stories. Before long, the two of them had Elena howling with laughter and Arthur was feeling loose and happy. 

When people were feeling festive enough to start dancing -- coincidentally, also when Morgana cleared out the booze and started putting out carb-heavy desserts -- he got a glimpse of Merlin leading the children in some kind of silly dance. Grinning, Arthur made his way toward them, but Morgana swooped in just as he made it to Merlin to inform them that it was time for the girls to go upstairs. Abigail begged to be allowed to stay up longer, and Vivian said she was tired but she wanted Uncle Arthur to put her to sleep. The next thing he knew, he was giving Vivian a piggy-back ride up the stairs. 

With the thick wooden door shut against the noise of the party, Arthur went through the familiar bedtime routine with Vivian. He laid beside her on the cosy bed to read her bedtime story and smiled when he looked over to see that she had dozed off before he could even finish. He reached carefully to turn out the light and decided to wait a moment to be sure she was fully asleep before he tried to sneak back to the party. 

Vivian had curled up close to him and had one hand tucked under her little cheek, her blonde curls spread across the pillow behind her. She looked so innocent in sleep and Arthur felt that same old fierce protectiveness well up in him as he watched her back rise and fall with sleep-heavy breaths.

He started awake some time later, realizing that he must have dozed off himself for a while. Vivian had rolled away and Abigail still wasn’t upstairs, so it couldn’t have been for too long, but Arthur felt disoriented and sluggish as he made his way back downstairs. 

The party had taken on the subdued tone that it usually did at this point in the evening, with people working on sobering up a bit and more interested in cosy, intimate conversation than boisterous laughter. As soon as he reappeared, several of his team queued up to say goodbye before heading back to London. Most of the people who had brought children had cleared out, although Arthur spotted Gwen and Lance’s boys watching a movie with Abigail on the sofa. After Arthur had seen out the last of his co-workers, he slipped into the porch and shrugged on his big coat. It was chilly but not freezing and the fresh air was what he needed to clear his head after the impromptu nap. 

With his hands shoved into the fleece lined pockets of his coat, Arthur stepped outside into the night and made his way across the side garden. The thick fog that had crept up from the stream thinned out a bit as he headed for the gazebo on the eastern edge of the property where Morgana and Leon had been wed -- over a decade ago, Arthur was slightly startled to realise. Out here alone in the cold silence of the meadow with the twinkling stars overhead, it was easy for Arthur to feel wistful about the passage of time. He remembered his father walking Morgana up the aisle -- how happy he’d looked, although he’d been having more bad days than good ones at that point. It seemed so unfair to Arthur that he’d gotten so few good years with his father, although if he’d never gotten sick perhaps he wouldn’t have gotten any good years at all. He wished that Uther could see the girls now -- what would he think about how their lives and the business had changed? What would he think about Arthur? 

He was so caught up in his melancholic thoughts that he didn’t even see Merlin standing in the gazebo until he practically ran into him. 

“Oh, Merlin! I’ve been looking for you, actually, I --” 

Merlin, who had been facing away from Arthur as he approached, startled at his voice, whipping around and swiping an arm across his face. 

“Oh, um. Hi,” Merlin replied, his voice thick. The moon was far from full, but in its dim light Arthur realised that Merlin had been crying. He immediately backed away. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I’ll just,” he gestured back toward the cottage, but felt Merlin’s hand firm on his forearm before he could run away. 

“No, it’s alright,” Merlin said. His voice was earnest and it sounded as though he had regained some of his composure. “Stay.” 

Arthur nodded, then shuffled uncomfortably beside Merlin, unsure if he should say something or offer Merlin a hug or what. 

“Are you okay?” he asked at last, feeling awkward but thinking he may as well address the elephant in the room. “Did Morgana yell at you?” 

Merlin gave a wet-sounding laugh at Arthur’s pathetic attempt to break the tension, and his heart twisted with affection. 

“No, nothing like that,” he said quietly. “It’s just … my Mum. Her favorite Christmas song came on and well -- it’s pretty uncommon so I’d managed to go this long without hearing it, but once it came on I just had to get out of there for a minute, you know?” 

“Yeah, I do,” Arthur replied a bit roughly. He thought back to the months after Uther’s death and the number of times he had to excuse himself from a meeting because something innocuous like someone’s tea choice had sent a wave of sadness crashing over him. Merlin’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Oh god, Arthur, I forgot -- god, I’m so sorry, if you want me to shut up I can --”

“No, don’t,” Arthur interrupted. “Please don’t on my behalf. It’s almost always better to talk about it, I’ve found. Keeping it all in doesn’t go well, trust me.” 

Merlin laughed softly in the darkness, and the sound curled up and settled inside Arthur’s chest. Merlin leaned against the railing and Arthur leaned beside him, their shoulders brushing as they looked out over the stream at the swift black water moving below.

“I don’t know, maybe this was all a mistake,” Merlin said. “Coming here. It’s just -- last year was so horrible being back at home and having everything feel normal except there was this one huge part missing that kept me from enjoying anything else. That’s what I had planned on just staying in my flat this year, working on my thesis, pretending that Christmas wasn’t happening. But then Morgana begged me to come along and I thought, okay, maybe this is a way for me to celebrate Christmas without it feeling like Christmas -- I can do this because she won’t be missing. But she _is_ still missing. She’s gone and I--” Merlin stopped to take a shaky breath and Arthur could no longer resist the urge to put his arm around him. When Merlin sniffled but didn’t go on, Arthur began to speak gently. 

“When Morgana invited you, did she tell you why we started coming here for Christmas?”

Merlin shook his head, sniffing again and wiping at tears with his sleeve. 

“The first Christmas after Dad died, we tried to do things like we always did -- the family estate wasn’t on the market yet, so we decided to go and have dinner and try to make things feel like normal.”

“I’m guessing it went about as well for you as it did for me last year?”

“It was a disaster,” Arthur agreed. “I got so drunk that I had to leave the dinner table to be sick. Morgana was six months pregnant and I think she cried the entire time, except when she was screaming at me for being drunk. Every time we got to something Dad would have done, Leon tried to jump in and help but,” Arthur stopped and shook his head. Even a decade later, talking about that horrible transitional Christmas brought back a flood of ugly emotions. 

“It wasn’t the same,” Merlin finished for him, turning his head to meet his eyes. Arthur realised he still had his arms around him and hastily pulled it back. 

“No. It wasn’t,” he agreed. “We had a family therapy session the next week, and decided that since Leon and Morgana were going to have a new baby we could all use a fresh start. We decided to start coming to the cottage for Christmas so that we could start building a new set of traditions together as a family. And we’ve been coming ever since.” 

“That’s really nice,” Merlin said softly. He sounded slightly more collected, which Arthur was thankful for. He already felt awkward enough for barging in on his private breakdown. “You’re lucky to have Morgana, you know.”

Arthur snorted, but Merlin pushed on. “No, really! I mean, I don’t have any siblings and I never knew my father, so we were always a small family, but now it’s just me and my great uncle. It’s nice that you two are so close.”

“We weren’t always, that’s for sure. And we’re probably closer than she’d like to be … like I said earlier, I know I’m overly-invested in their family --” 

“No, don’t say that,” Merlin protested, sounding endearingly earnest. “The girls adore you; they really do talk about you all the time. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you being so involved -- you clearly have a lot of love to give, and I think it’s really lovely for all of you. Anyone would be lucky to have that --” Merlin cut himself off with a self-conscious little laugh then rubbed at the back of his neck, peering at Arthur in the pale moonlight. 

After years of group therapy, Arthur was used to the discomfort that came with making yourself vulnerable in front of someone you didn’t know well, but the swooping feeling in his stomach when he met Merlin’s eyes was entirely new. He forced a casual laugh, though he felt anything but casual.

“Cheers,” he said, and thought that he really ought to take a step back before he did anything stupid. Instead he shuffled closer, clearing his throat. “I’m glad you think so. And I’m glad you’re here with us.”

“Are you?” Merlin said. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and smiled at their feet, now only centimeters apart. “I told Morgana that you wouldn’t like it, but you know she never listens.” 

“I do know,” Arthur said solemnly and they both laughed, although it really wasn’t that funny. “And I wasn’t thrilled at first, I’ll admit, but now … “

Merlin looked up at him with a small smile. 

“Now?”

“I --” 

“Merlin!” the voice came from so close that Arthur startled, jumping away from Merlin. Leon stopped at the entrance to the gazebo, one foot propped against the steps. “There you are -- didn’t you hear me calling? Gwen’s leaving and wants to say goodbye.” 

“Oh, okay, I’ll uh. I’ll head back in then I guess!” Merlin said, sounding a bit strangled. He shot a quick glance at Arthur, but didn’t say anything as he scarpered back toward the cottage. Once he was out of earshot, Leon raised his eyebrows at Arthur. 

“Interrupting something, was I?” 

“Sod off,” Arthur said without heat. “You weren’t interrupting anything.” 

“Hmm, that’s not what the missus implied.”

“I’m going to tell her you called her that,” Arthur said, walking toward him. 

“No, don’t,” Leon said, smiling at Arthur in a way that was entirely too knowing for his liking. “I don’t fancy being in a fistfight this close to Christmas.”

Arthur snorted. “As if _fighting_ is what you’d be doing if she found you out here alone at night.” 

Leon laughed for a moment, then seemed to consider. 

“Actually … do you think you could send her out?” he asked with a grin.

Arthur just stared at him. “You can’t be serious.” 

Leon shrugged. “It’s Christmas.” 

“God you two are disgusting,” Arthur rolled his eyes and started trudging across the field. “Yes, okay. Just keep your gob shut about all this and I’ll send her out.” 

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite brother-in-law?” Leon called after him. “Absolute aces, you.” 

~ ❅ ~

Arthur got back to the house just in time to wave at Gwen through the car window as Lance carefully navigated the drive. He waited a moment while Morgana helped some of the more festive party-goers into a taxi bound for the local Bed and Breakfast, then grabbed her elbow.

“Leon is requesting your presence in the gazebo,” he told. Her brow furrowed. 

“What for?” 

“Come on, Morgana, you’re not that old,” he teased. Morgana laughed and shook her head. 

“There’s still guests inside and I’m still --” she gestured at her sheath dress. “I’ll freeze.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes and slipped off his coat, wrapping it around his sister’s shoulders.

“Never say I don’t do anything for you.” 

Morgana actually flushed a bit, then kissed his cheek and started off across the meadow at a brisk pace. 

Back inside, Arthur was happy to see that almost all the guests had already cleared out, and that a great deal of the clean-up had already been seen to. He had been hoping that maybe he could catch Merlin again, but he was nowhere to be found, and Arthur supposed that he had either retreated to his room to hide from Arthur, or taken Abigail upstairs for bed. He hoped it was the latter. 

He chatted with the last of the guests, making excuses for Morgana as necessary. He’d seen the last of them out, ensuring that everyone leaving was either sober enough to drive or had a taxi, and started cleaning up the last of the food when he heard Morgana and Leon laughing softly in the porch. Leon re-emerged looking pleased with himself then looked around in surprise. 

“Everyone’s gone?” 

“Yes, and no thanks to you two,” Arthur joked as he wrestled with a roll of cling wrap. “Still got your bits, or did they freeze off?”

“Oh, he’s still got them,” Morgana said smugly, sweeping in to pluck the cling wrap from Arthur’s hands and deftly tear a piece off. 

“Ugh,” Arthur complained at the same time Leon asked, “Where’s Merlin?” 

“I sent him upstairs with Abigail right after Gwen left,” Morgana said, neatly wrapping up the remaining mince pies. Arthur felt his body stiffen as he waited to see whether Leon would mention catching them together in the gazebo, but he was as good as his word and just hummed thoughtfully. 

“Arthur, we can take care of the rest of this,” Morgana said, shooting Leon a soft look when he wasn’t looking. “You’ve taken care of enough today.” 

Arthur, who was starting to get that achy feeling he sometimes got when Morgana and Leon were being especially tender with each other, didn’t need to be told twice. He said goodnight and headed down the hallway, noting that the light in Merlin’s room was out, so either he’d already slipped to bed, or had perhaps fallen asleep upstairs as Arthur had done. 

When he got back to his own room, he realised that he’d never laid his own stack of presents under the tree, so he grabbed the box and returned to the main room, hurrying past the murmurs coming from the kitchen.

Arthur knelt in front of the softly shining tree, quickly set out his gifts for Leon, Morgana and his nieces, then took a moment to poke around at the other wrapped gifts under the tree. He knew Abigail and Vivian were under strict no touching, no shaking orders, but Arthur had no such rules and had never been able to resist snooping. 

“I know what you’re doing,” Morgana called from the kitchen, but he ignored her and tested the heft of a present from Leon. When he set it back down, guessing that it was probably a jumper that Morgana had picked out, he spotted his name scrawled on a long, narrow gift wrapped in bright red paper. 

Arthur reached out and pulled the gift toward him slowly, and when the rest of the label emerged, he saw “From: Merlin” printed underneath his name. For a moment he just held the gift in his hands, wondering whether Merlin had bought it in a rush when Morgana had invited him along, or whether he’d already picked out something for Arthur even before he knew they’d all be spending Christmas together. Either way, it only took a moment for the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest to be replaced by one of dread when he realised -- he didn’t have a thing for Merlin. 

He set the gift gently back under the tree and returned to his room, calling a final goodnight to his sister and brother-in-law as he passed. There was no way that he could just not give Merlin a gift, and something hasty and last minute like an electronic gift card just felt too impersonal, considering the … whatever it was that was happening between them. By the time he’d gotten ready for sleep and slipped under the duvet, he’d come to the conclusion that he was simply going to have to drive into the village first thing in the morning and find something appropriate. 

Several minutes later, he listened as Merlin padded softly by his room. It might have been his imagination, but Arthur swore his steps had slowed outside his door. But no knock came and soon the whole house was silent. Arthur tossed and turned while his mind replayed their conversation in the gazebo over and over again, but finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep. 

~ ❅ ~

“Shit, shit, shit,” Arthur said, pounding a fist into the steering wheel. He’d been swearing ever since he had stupidly checked his work email whilst in the village, but he made sure to get these last few in before he was in earshot of his nieces. He stared at the cottage through the windscreen for a moment, then with a sigh heaved himself out of the car. 

“And where did you run off to this morning,” Morgana called teasingly from the kitchen. Arthur could hear the knowing smirk in her voice, but he just shoved the gift he had so happily picked out only an hour earlier under the tree and carried the boxes from the bakery into the kitchen. 

“Morgana,” Arthur said, voice tight, as soon as he had set the boxes on the worktop. 

His sister looked up from where she was arranging bowls of hundreds and thousands on the counter, immediately alerted that something was wrong by his tone. 

“What is it?” she said, suddenly serious. “Something with work?”

“The audit,” Arthur confirmed tersely. “They sent an email two days ago, with a seventy-two hour deadline.” 

Morgana glanced up at the clock and Arthur could see her doing the maths. 

“Those bastards,” she said, keeping her voice low. From the sound of it, the girls were in the dining room having a cheerful debate with Merlin and Leon. “They knew we were both out of the office this week. Fucking American workaholics. What do they want now?” 

“The international numbers for last quarter.” 

“All of them?” 

Arthur nodded and Morgana set her jaw stubbornly. 

“And if we don’t?” 

Arthur rubbed at his temples.

“I mean, technically there’s no penalty, but they might reschedule closing out the audit if we don’t get everything to them on time. Which would set us back about six months with the non-profit development.” 

Morgana bit her lip and Arthur knew she was weighing how dearly she wanted to tell the auditors to go fuck themselves against how long it had already taken them to get this last piece of Uther’s plan for the company off the ground. Not to mention that Christmas Eve day was strictly reserved for baking with the girls. 

Leon popped his head into the kitchen, took one look at the faced off siblings, and turned back into the dining room. 

Arthur reflected that he and Morgana were really getting to the point of eerily close at this point, because he knew exactly what train of thought she was following in her brain right now -- which was why he had been swearing all the way from town. 

“You know those numbers better than anyone,” Arthur pointed out. It was a token resistance and they both knew it, because Morgana just continued to stare at him with silently pleading eyes. He sighed. “But I know them well enough to pull this together on time, I suppose.” 

“Oh Arthur,” Morgana said, coming around the island and squeezing him tight. “Are you sure? I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

“You’d better,” Arthur grumbled, hugging her back. 

“What time is it due?”

“Six hours,” Arthur replied. “So if I start right now I should have enough time to pull everything they want together, then drive into town to send it.” 

“You’re the best brother on earth, have I told you lately?”

“Yeah, well. You’d better be making the jammy dodgers,” Arthur grumbled. 

“For the last time they’re _linzer tarts_.” 

“Whatever. I’m assuming you brought your work laptop?”

“Of course I did!” she said, sounding affronted. “Only don’t tell Leon. Upstairs cupboard, top shelf. Thank you, Arthur,” 

As Arthur climbed the stairs to retrieve the laptop then made his way back to his room to get started, he tried not to think too much about the fact that he hadn’t been able to see Merlin at all this morning. He’d awoken early enough to shower and make it into the village as soon as the shops opened, so Merlin had presumably still been sleeping whilst Arthur searched for the right gift. 

After he’d been successful, he ventured into the cheerfully crowded bakery to buy some pastries for Christmas morning, only to earn reproachful stares from the locals when his phone had suddenly started chiming with notification upon notification. Arthur had cursed and apologised as he rushed to silence the phone, realizing belatedly that his phone had automatically connected to the wifi, as he’d spent an afternoon answering work emails from his phone at the bakery’s cafe last summer. 

Whilst queueing, Arthur couldn’t resist scrolling through his work email -- which was how he’d wound up in this situation, he thought glumly as he crawled under the desk in his room in search of the socket. When he had got everything running, he considered going to the kitchen again for a cup of tea and maybe to say good morning to everyone. But in the end, he decided it was better to get the work done before engaging with potential distractions. 

As was typical, once Arthur settled into his spreadsheets filled with numbers and projections -- occasionally logging into Morgana’s profile to search for something he hadn’t accounted for on his own -- the rest of the world seemed to fade away. While he slowly pulled together and cleaned up the numbers that the auditors had asked for, the sounds of Christmas music and laughter drifted down and the hall and wave after wave of new delicious smells wafted under the closed door. By the time the tentative knock came, Arthur blinked in surprise to find the shadows longer, the sun having almost completed its short scuttle across the western part of the sky. 

“Come in,” he said absently, dragging his files into a desktop folder to be zipped. “I’m just about --” 

As Arthur looked up the words caught in his throat. He’d been expecting Morgana checking in to see how he was doing, but instead he was looking up into Merlin’s grinning face.

“Done?” Merlin finished his sentence, stepping into the room and pushing the door shut with his foot. His hands were full with a mug of tea and a plate of the delicately dusted linzer tarts that Arthur adored. “Morgana thought you might need some sustenance for the final push.”

“Yeah, ta,” Arthur said absently. He took the hot tea from Merlin’s hands and Merlin leaned over to him to set the plate of biscuits on the desk. Ever since Merlin had walked in the door, Arthur hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from a brush of white powder on his cheek. It should have been ridiculous and cliché, but instead Arthur found it utterly charming. He wondered if the spot was flour or icing sugar, then cut off the next thought about the ways he could find out.

“You’ve got a little -- um,” Arthur finally said, making the universal gesture to indicate something on one’s face. 

Merlin’s eyes went wide and he scrubbed at his cheek, which was now turning pink. 

“God,” he muttered. “Morgana could have said something.”

Arthur, whose insides were not doing a weird kind of warm clench, had a feeling he knew why she hadn’t. 

“So how’s it going, with the work and all?” Merlin said, breaking Arthur out of his biscuit ingredient-induced trance.

“Good, good. I’m uh, just about --”

“Done, oh yes. You did say,” Merlin said, his cheeks showing no sign of returning to their normal color. “Sorry”

“That’s alright,” Arthur hurried to reassure him. “How’s baking going?”

“Oh, really good, yeah,” Merlin said, finally looking slightly less embarrassed. “The kitchen’s an absolute disaster and I think we’ve all eaten way too much sugar, but the girls had fun. Leon too. Felt like proper Christmas” 

Arthur wanted to ask Merlin if he’d done Christmas baking with his Mum and what she was like and how he was feeling today and whether he was having a good time with them and whether he might possibly be interested in having dinner with Arthur once they were back in London, but instead he cleared his throat. 

“That’s good. Good,” Arthur said, wondering how many times the word “good” could be used in one conversation. 

“Well -- I’ll leave you to finish, I guess,” Merlin replied with a small smile. 

“Thank you for the tea. And the biscuits,” Arthur said, belatedly remembering his manners. “Much appreciated.” 

That earned him a bigger smile as Merlin slipped out the door. Arthur finished the rest of his work in a daze, devouring both the biscuits and the tea as he zipped the files and attached them to an email draft. Later, he drove to the village and managed to send the files from the bakery wifi with an hour to spare, then sat in his car in the car park and scrubbed his hands over his face. 

He was getting dangerously close to a place where he could no longer ignore the fact that he was attracted to Merlin -- and better yet, he was pretty sure Merlin was attracted to him as well. But he was still unsure whether pursuing him was a brilliant idea or a terrible one. 

On one hand, Merlin would clearly have no problems fitting in and would be understanding of his familial obligations. On the other hand … if they dated and it went badly, they’d have to awkwardly avoid each other for years. Arthur imagined the questions the girls would ask if he suddenly stopped showing up all together, and how awkward it would be to have to text Morgana before visiting. But after several moments of imagining doom and gloom scenarios, he shook his head. 

What was he doing? Morgana was right, he was just finding reasons to end things before they’d even begun. But what if things worked out? 

Arthur closed his eyes, settled back in the seat, and allowed himself to give in to the temptation of hoping. He imagined how it would have gone last night if Leon hadn’t interrupted them, if Arthur had just let himself lean in and capture Merlin’s lips under his, if he had pressed his body into Merlin’s in the chilly night air, if he had gripped his hips, licked his way into his hot mouth. He imagined weaving his fingers between Merlin’s pulling him closer. He imagined taking Merlin for a date to some unfussy restaurant back in London, making him laugh, Merlin’s eyes shining and fixed only on him. Kissing Merlin in the snow, holding his hand in the spring, laying in a park laughing with him under the sun, sharing an umbrella with him on a foggy autumn evening. 

Arthur came back from his imaginings with a gasp, his whole body tingling and a clarity breaking over him. He wanted this -- badly. He wanted everything with Merlin. Felt he might _burst_ if he didn’t drive home and kiss him right this instant. He turned the car back to the cottage and half an hour later was pulling up the drive. 

Merlin and the girls were romping around in the garden and it was almost a shock for Arthur to see him again after his revelation. He couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face to see Merlin bundled up against the chill with a knitted hat and scarf. 

“Arthur,” he called, charging toward the car with Vivian and Abigail close behind him. “Brilliant. We were just going to have a snowball fight, will you join?” 

Arthur laughed. “With what snow?”

“Shhhh,” Vivian scolded him. “Uncle Arthur, we’re pretending.”

Arthur agreed readily and was teamed up with Abigail, who was dutifully miming packing snowballs for their arsenal, whilst Arthur scouted around the woods for a good place to make their base. Before long, Vivian made the brilliant discovery that the pinecones littering the forest floor were an excellent substitute for snowballs, and the whole thing devolved rather quickly from there. 

Although Merlin and Arthur were both careful to lob the pinecones gently at the girls, Merlin had no such compunctions when he gleefully flung them at Arthur. Arthur and the girls darted through the gathering dusk of the forest, hiding behind tree trunks and shouting taunts at each other. Merlin laughed when he caught Arthur in the leg with a pinecone and then laughed even harder when Arthur got him in the shoulder. Finally, Arthur convinced Vivian to defect and -- teamed up with his nieces -- managed to corner Merlin and dump an armful of pinecones over his head while the girls joyfully pelted him. They were all laughing so hard they could barely breathe, when they heard Leon call to them that dinner was ready. 

The girls raced back toward the cottage and Arthur grinned at Merlin, offering him a hand to haul him up. Merlin took it willingly and they set off after the girls together, Merlin still brushing bits of pine needle from his coat. 

As soon as they stepped into the cottage, the delicious aroma of meat and tomato sauce curled around them. Merlin sniffed the air appreciatively as he tugged off his coat. 

“Lasagne,” Arthur told him, shrugging out of his own coat. “My mum’s recipe. It was Dad’s favorite and he taught Morgana how to make it during one of his fits of trying to turn her into a lady--” Arthur smiled at Merlin’s snort -- “So she always makes it Christmas Eve.” 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Arthur realized that they might be upsetting to Merlin, but he just smiled.

“It smells delicious,” Merlin said. “What a lovely way to keep both of them close at Christmas.” 

At the kind words, Arthur felt his throat tighten. It had been so long since Uther’s death that he had mostly gotten past the unpredictable waves of grief that had seemed never ending for the first few years, but something in Merlin’s words touched him when he wasn’t expecting it. Merlin must have seen the change in his expression because he slipped his hand into Arthur’s and squeezed. 

“Take a minute,” he said quietly. “I’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 

Arthur nodded mutely, then stood in the porch taking deep breaths and allowing himself to feel all the emotions that were tangling in his chest. He felt vaguely guilty, as though he ought to be the one comforting Merlin instead of the other way around. But when he slid into his seat at the dining room table several minutes later, Merlin just smiled at him. 

Dinner was lively as the girls recounted their pinecone battle to Leon and Morgana, with much embellishment. Arthur and Merlin occasionally chimed in, each making more and more outrageous claims about their victories, until everyone was in tears from laughing. Throughout the meal there was the nearly palpable undercurrent of excitement about the holiday.

Arthur found he was starving and ate two helpings of the lasagne, relishing the savoury meat, tangy tomato sauce and melted cheese. He dutifully ate some of the garden salad that Leon had thrown together to try his best to stave off the inevitable carb coma, but when Morgana brought out tea and plates of Christmas biscuits, he gave in to the inevitable. 

“What’s tonight, then?” Merlin asked. 

“Another film night,” Morgana said, grinning. “Abigail's turn to choose the film -- Arthur’s on clean up duty and the rest of us can get into our pyjamas.” 

“And make cinnamon popcorn!” Abigail chimed in.

“And make cinnamon popcorn,” Morgana agreed. 

“I can help Arthur with cleaning up,” Merlin said, standing and beginning to gather up the dirty plates. 

“Oh!” Morgana said, sounding surprised and shooting a look at Arthur that somehow managed to be both smug and questioning. “Are you sure? You’re our guest.”

“Trust me Merlin, you won’t be keen when you see the mess these two make in a kitchen,” Arthur said.

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware,” Merlin laughed, carrying the plates through to the kitchen. “But nah, I really don’t mind.” 

Morgana looked to Arthur again, but Arthur just shrugged. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you then,” he said, standing up from the table and carrying the leftover lasagne to the kitchen. 

“You really don’t have to,” he told Merlin as Leon rounded everyone up in the next room and they headed up the stairs. “I’m used to taking care of cleaning up by myself, it’s not a problem.” 

“I’m happy to help --oh, unless you’d rather do it alone?” Merlin said, suddenly looking unsure.

“No, no,” Arthur rushed to reassure him. “I would love a hand, I just don’t want you to feel obliged.” 

“Well, I don’t, so let’s just tame this chaos, shall we?” Merlin said, rummaging in the cupboard and emerging with the cling film. “Besides, Mum would probably haunt me all Charles Dickens-like if I didn’t help out.” 

Arthur looked up from where he was filling the washing up bowl, startled to hear Merlin speak about his mother so casually. But Merlin just shrugged. “Well, she would.”

“Thanks for earlier, by the way,” Arthur said, slipping the plates into the soapy water. “Sometimes it still catches me a bit off-guard, you know?”

“Of course I do,” Merlin replied. “I do think it’s nice in a way though, that they can still affect us so many years later. That just means the love was strong.” 

Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to speak. They worked in silence for several moments before Arthur was able to say, “And you? How’re you holding up?”

Merlin paused in wiping down the worktops and shrugged. “I feel okay, to be honest. For now. In an hour I might not. I mean, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that sometimes you feel like you have to cry, and sometimes you just … don’t.” 

Arthur nodded. “The hard part for me to learn was that when you don’t feel like crying it’s not worth it to force yourself just because you feel like you _ought_ to cry. And vice versa -- once I figured out that if I felt like crying I’d better just let it out, things went a lot smoother from there.”

“I’ll bet,” Merlin said, smiling the soft smile that made Arthur’s insides do a sort of slow-motion backflip. “I’m glad you got there, though.” 

“Mmm, me too,” Arthur said, returning to his dishes. “Thank god for therapy.” 

Merlin laughed. “You have no idea how refreshing it is to hear you say that,” he said, and Arthur tried to fight the colour that inexplicably rose to his cheeks. 

After that Merlin changed the subject to Christmas films, and they made quick work of the rest of the washing up as they debated favorites and reminisced about old classics. By the time the rest of the family had returned to start the popcorn, the kitchen and dining room were tidied and Arthur and Merlin retreated to their rooms to change. 

Even though Arthur was prepared for it when he returned to the sofa, the sight of Merlin in his glasses still both charmed Arthur and filled him with some kind of primeval urge to protect. Abigail had chosen Nativity!, which was queued up on the screen as Arthur got settled. Seating arrangements were the same as the first movie night, except this time when Vivian predictably squirmed over Arthur to be nearer to her mother, Arthur gladly slid closer to Merlin. 

Arthur could barely pay attention to what was on the screen, let alone the joking commentary that Leon and Morgana tried to pull him in to. His entire focus was on every place that Merlin’s body was touching his, the way that he could feel every shift in position he made. 

When Vivian complained that she was cold, Arthur tugged the thick blanket that covered their laps up so that it covered their bodies as well. Shortly after, he felt Merlin’s hand tentatively brush against his under the warm fleece and out of view of the rest of the family. Arthur froze for a moment, his whole body going stiff even as warmth bloomed in his chest. Merlin’s hand started to pull back but Arthur slipped his hand into Merlin’s and squeezed it tight before he could think better of it. Both of their eyes remained fixed on the screen, but Merlin squeezed back and Arthur had to fight to keep the grin from his face.

Whereas typically he’d be anxious and over analyzing his feelings by now, he took a deep breath and forced himself to just enjoy the moment for what it was. He was here, with the family that he loved, in this beautiful cottage with the Christmas tree glowing in the next room, holding the hand of a man that he had grown to very much respect and enjoy the company of. They were all safe and warm and happy and together, and for tonight it didn’t need to be anything other than what it was. 

Arthur chanced a peek at Merlin and got a sleepy smile in return, as if Merlin could read his thoughts and approved. 

When the film was over it was already nearly the girls’ bed time, but in keeping with tradition, they insisted they weren’t sleepy and begged for one more film. Morgana put up a token fuss about Father Christmas not having time to visit then almost immediately gave in, with cheers from the girls. As Leon and Morgana bickered about some setting on the remote, Abigail declared that she wanted to sit next to Uncle Arthur this time She and Vivian crawled around to switch spots and Arthur reluctantly let go of Merlin’s hand before his sharp-eyed niece could spot them. Merlin seemed to take this in stride, but once they had settled again, he kept his hand partially resting on Arthur’s thigh throughout the next film. Arthur was amazed at how much the small point of contact drove him to distraction. He felt Merlin’s body grow stiller beside him and some minutes later felt his head tip against Arthur’s shoulder. The soft rhythmic breaths puffing against Arthur’s collarbone told him that Merlin had definitely fallen asleep, and he couldn’t keep the fond smile from his face. 

When the second film was over, Morgana switched off the television and in the sudden silence that followed, surveyed who was still awake. Vivian was sprawled across Leon’s lap asleep, as was Abigail, who had tucked herself under Arthur’s arm. Morgana smirked at Arthur when she spotted Merlin’s head on his shoulder, and -- not wanting to disturb either of the parties sleeping on him -- he stuck out his tongue at her. 

Leon stood and handed Vivian off to Morgana. The small girl flopped against her mother’s shoulder, her golden brown curls wild and her face slack with sleep. Arthur reluctantly shifted to let Leon scoop Abigail up, in the process jostling Merlin, who startled awake. 

“You think you can still … ?” Morgana raised her eyebrows and Arthur nodded, well used to his Santa role, which entailed retrieving the girls’ presents from where they were hidden in the boot of his car. 

“And don’t forget the--” Morgana started to whisper. 

Arthur cut her off with, “Yes, I know, in the shed.” 

Morgana smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek. 

“Good night.”

“Good night,” Arthur replied. “See you at ungodly o’clock.” 

Merlin was still blinking behind his glasses, adorably half-awake. Morgana laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. 

“I’m so glad you joined us,” she told him warmly, then followed Leon up the stairs.

Arthur felt suddenly shy in the silence that followed, but when he glanced at Merlin and saw he looked every bit as awkward as Arthur felt it made him feel better. 

“Come on,” he said softly. “You can help me with the gifts.” 

Outside the night was silent and clear, and just cold enough that their breaths puffed out before them as they made their way to Arthur’s car. The stars were brilliant overhead and Merlin stopped to admire them as Arthur opened the boot. 

_I could kiss him right now,_ Arthur thought, but by the time he had finished fiddling with the key fob, the moment had already passed. Merlin was at his side and began stacking presents into his arms dutifully. 

“This is fun,” Merlin whispered. 

“Why are you whispering?” Arthur whispered back, making him laugh. 

“I don’t know, but everything just seems so quiet and lovely out here, and it’s fun to be Father Christmas.” 

Despite the chill and the late hour, Arthur had to agree. Several trips from the car to the cottage -- and one trip to the shed for the new bicycles -- later, Arthur sat back on his knees and admired the effect. The lights on the tree twinkled softly, casting the whole room in dim, warm light. The homemade ornaments from over the years were arranged artfully with silver garland, the glowing star perched on the top and the gifts piled below. 

Arthur loved that only he got to experience this quiet little moment every year, but when he looked over to see Merlin beside him, he was fiercely glad. Merlin wore a half smile and his eyes behind the glasses had gone soft as he gazed up reverently at the tree. They sat in silence for a moment, Arthur once again pushing down panicky thoughts in favour of simply enjoying this moment of contentment together. 

As they made their way down the hallway to their rooms, Arthur lingered at Merlin’s door.

“Thanks for your help,” he said softly, leaning one arm up against the doorframe. 

“Of course,” Merlin said with a smile. A long moment passed and neither of them moved. The smile had mostly faded from Merlin’s face, and in the dim light he was now looking at Arthur with the same patient expression Arthur had seen when Merlin was teaching Vivian to tie her shoes. Arthur’s palms began to sweat. 

“I, um,” Arthur said eloquently, shuffling slightly closer. “I’m glad you came. Here, I mean -- for Christmas” 

“Me too,” Merlin said quietly. 

It was too dark for Arthur to tell if Merlin was blushing, but when he lowered his eyes to the floor, Arthur knew that it was now or never. He swayed closer into Merlin’s space then lost his nerve when he was almost there, pulling back a bit with a nervous hum. 

Merlin huffed out a quiet laugh and Arthur found that it was easy to laugh at himself too, until Merlin met his eyes again. The expression of soft desire caught Arthur’s breath in his throat; after that it was the easiest thing to tilt his head slightly and bring his lips to Merlin’s. 

The kiss was quiet and soft, just a careful press of lips together in the near-darkness of the hallway. But inside, Arthur felt his whole body flood with warm feelings of joy and contentment. He pulled back to check in with Merlin, who just smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss him again. The kisses they exchanged stayed soft and sweet, and Arthur found that they were all that he needed on this quiet Christmas Eve. 

When they broke apart again, Arthur took a cautious half-step away, rubbing at the back of his neck. When he looked up, Merlin was smiling at him again and he couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Good night, then,” he whispered. 

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin said softly, pushing the door around gently until it clicked shut. 

Arthur was sure that his feet didn’t touch the ground all the way back to his room. It had been so long since something as simple as a few kisses could make him feel like he might burst out of his skin. He laid on his bed, pulled the duvet up to his chin, and just let himself feel all the wonderful buzzing warmth that was coursing through his body. For once he was able to let go of the fretting he usually did over potential boyfriends and just let the good feelings course through his body. 

He tried to close his eyes to sleep but the thoughts rattling around in his head were too loud. Not since his mother was still alive had he felt the palpable excitement of Christmas Eve the way he did now, and the thought made him grin into the darkness of the room. He rolled over and snuggled deeper into the duvet, hoping for sleep but content to dream until it came. 

~ ❅ ~

Arthur was awoken entirely too early by the thunder of little feet down the stairs and excited shrieks from the Christmas tree. He groaned to himself as he rolled out of bed, but then the events of the previous night flooded back into his mind and he found himself smiling again. 

Leon and Morgana looked much too chipper for the early hour, so he was grateful when Merlin staggered into the kitchen five minutes later looking as exhausted as Arthur felt. Arthur wanted to say something affectionate to him, but as Morgana was right behind him fussing with the pastries and a platter, he settled for just passing him a mug of coffee, making sure their fingers touched. Merlin’s sleepy smile was all the Christmas gift he needed. 

The morning flew by in a flurry of wrapping paper and buttery pastry, excitement and hugs and laughter. Abigail took her time opening and admiring each gift, while Vivian tore through the first half until she realized her sister had more unopened gifts left than she did, at which point she did her best to slow down. Morgana and Leon had raised their eyebrows at the volume of presents Arthur had bought for his nieces, but he’d been careful to gift them enough books to keep Leon from complaining along with enough designer clothes to keep Morgana silent as well. 

Of course he had to have _some_ fun. 

“A _drum_ set Arthur? Really?” Morgana said with an eye roll.

“What,” he said, after Abigail was done squealing and hugging the life out of him. “I had one when I was her age.” 

“Yes, in a _soundproof room_.”

Arthur just shrugged his shoulders, trying to hold in his laughter. Morgana glared at him good-naturedly. 

“This is a dangerous game for a man who’s planning on having children of his own to play,” she said, but gamely set to work helping Abigail assemble the kit. Arthur couldn’t keep his eyes from sliding to Merlin, who just turned pink and looked into his coffee mug. 

Once all the adults were properly caffeinated, they began exchanging gifts as well. Morgana tried on the tartan Burberry cape that Arthur had given her right away, and Leon exclaimed over the beautiful copy of _A Passage to India_ Arthur had found for his collection of first editions. Arthur opened his collection of homemade gifts from the girls, and then Abigail pushed a familiar box into his hands. 

“Open this next!” she said, her eyes shining. 

“From Merlin,” Arthur read the tag, then glanced at him, trying not to let his face give away too much. “You didn’t need to get me anything.” 

Merlin groaned and covered his face with his hands. 

“It’s stupid, just something I saw --”

“No!” Abigail protested. “I think it’s brilliant!”

“Well go on -- open it!” Leon laughed, so Arthur peeled back the paper and lifted the lid of the box he’d uncovered to find what at first glance looked like a diamond patterned red and gold tie. 

A polite thank you was on Arthur’s lips when he squinted and brought the tie closer to his face. 

“Is that --” 

“It’s St. George and the dragon,” Abigail said, bouncing beside him on her knees. “Isn’t it cool?”

Upon closer inspection, Arthur did have to admit that the tie was pretty cool. He looked up to see Merlin looking embarrassed. 

“Your last name is Pendragon and Morgana told me you used to read Medieval Literature, so,” he shrugged, looking embarrassed. “The website said it was a good gift for a medieval enthusiast.”

“Or a knight in shining armour,” Morgana murmured just low enough for Arthur to hear. He elbowed her subtly. 

“I love it, truly. Thank you so much, Merlin, that was very thoughtful.” 

“You’re welcome,” Merlin said, looking as though he’d like to disappear into the floor. 

“I’ve something for you as well,” Arthur continued, standing and extracting the gift from under the tree. 

Here in front of his family, he wondered if he was going to be giving himself away, but judging by the smug look on Morgana’s face, they were already past that point. Merlin carefully unwrapped the box and opened it to reveal a soft cotton pyjama set. His fingers trailed appreciatively over the fabric and when he held the top up, Arthur was pleased to see that the blue matched his eyes just as well as he had hoped. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin smiled, looking pleased. 

“You’re welcome,” Arthur replied, not daring to look anywhere in Morgana’s direction. Or think too much about what Merlin’s body would feel like wearing the pyjamas and pressed against his. “I noticed you could use new ones.” 

That got a laugh out of Merlin. “Thanks, pratface.”

Arthur felt pleased with himself as Merlin returned the pyjamas to their box. He was trying to subtly shift closer to where Merlin was sitting when Vivian appeared beside him, tugging urgently on Merlin’s arm and whispering in his ear. Merlin’s eyes darted to Arthur, then he whispered something back in her ear. A moment later, he got up and moved to the television, fidgeting with one of the gaming consoles. 

“Uncle Arthur, I have a present for you!” Vivian announced, barely keeping herself from jumping up and down. “On Minecraft!”

“On -- what?” Arthur said, nonplussed. Although love of Minecraft had previously been their special bond, Vivian hadn’t wanted to play with him for weeks, so he had assumed she’d moved on to only playing with Merlin. 

“Look!” she exclaimed, dragging him over to the sofa and shoving a controller in his hand. 

He navigated to the server list and clicked into the world that had been named MERRY CHRISTMAS UNCLE ARTHUR. When he loaded, his jaw hung open in shock. 

“Merry Christmas!” Vivian shouted, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “We have a _proper_ castle now!” 

And Arthur had to admit, what was on the screen was indeed a proper, historically accurate medieval castle. As he directed his avatar around the impossibly thick outer wall and through the gatehouse, he got more and more excited. There was one large tower for defense, rounded arches -- it was all perfect.

“I’ve seen these before! Historical replicas -- but they take hours and hours to build! How on earth did you--” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew the answer. And what a colossal idiot he’d been. 

“Merlin helped me!” Vivian exclaimed. “We worked on it after school, and sometimes he came over on weekends to help too! Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” he said around the lump in his throat. Arthur felt his insides burn with shame to think that he had ever accused Merlin of trying to keep him from his nieces. He had seen tutorial videos on these types of builds, and was painfully aware of the hours of labor that Merlin must have put into creating the world. He knew he was going to owe him an apology -- and that if all went well, it was something he’d be teased about for years -- but for now he forced himself to meet Merlin’s eyes. 

“Cheers, Merlin” he said, looking up to where Merlin was wearing an amused expression that conveyed clearly that Merlin's Christmas gift was watching Arthur’s discomfort. Arthur didn’t dare look at his sister. 

The morning passed quickly as the rest of the presents were unwrapped and admired, and all the tea and coffee and pastries devoured. As the day stretched into afternoon, Leon stood up from where he had been playing on the floor with Vivian and stretched. 

“Walk time?” he asked, checking his watch. “We ought to start on dinner in the next hour or two, so we should go now.” 

“Walk?” Merlin asked, looking up from the card game that he, Abigail and Morgana had been trying to learn. 

Arthur grinned at his skeptical tone from where he had settled in to explore his Minecraft castle, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to catch Merlin alone this morning. “It’s tradition!” 

Merlin muttered something about _bloody traditions_ under his breath, but he gamely returned to his room to change into warmer clothes when the rest of the family did. 

~ ❅ ~

The sky overhead was a dull, uniform grey that threatened snow. The temperature had dropped so low overnight that Arthur wondered for a moment whether it actually _would_ snow, but then he became thoroughly distracted by how rosy Merlin's pale cheeks had gotten in the biting wind. 

As the girls ran ahead, their energy boundless despite how early they’d gotten up, the adults took a slower pace. The Christmas Day walk was another long family tradition, and Morgana and Arthur made everyone laugh with their impressions of the Uther from their childhood extolling the virtues of taking fresh air and exercise whilst his children shivered behind him. 

Merlin seemed a little subdued, which was the only thing keeping Arthur from saying sod it all and grabbing his hand. Abigail too seemed a bit quiet, and after an initial burst of speed lagged next to her father. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her tight. 

“Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?” he asked her warmly. She pondered the question seriously. 

“Nearly everything,” she finally replied. The adults chuckled -- except for Morgana, who linked arms with her daughter and smiled. 

“Well, Christmas isn’t over yet.” 

Before Arthur had time to wonder what she meant by that, Vivian called to Abigail from further up the path, and Abigail seemed only too glad to run ahead to meet her. 

As they trudged up the incline that would bring them to the huge open meadow on the western end of the property, it finally occurred to Arthur that while he’d been quite looking forward to kissing Merlin again as soon as he had the chance, Merlin probably had no clue what was going on. Arthur had been happily going about his day, acting as though things were normal -- did Merlin think that Arthur just wanted to pretend the kiss had never happened? The thought that they might not be on the same page was so shocking to him that he actually stopped dead in his tracks.

Merlin immediately ran straight into him with a soft _oof_ and Arthur grabbed him by his forearms to keep him from toppling over. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t--”

“I want to date you,” Arthur blurted. From the corner of his eye, Arthur could see that Morgana and Leon had crested the incline and were shouting to the girls from just out of sight. He was thankful for some privacy, as Merlin was still just staring at him with his mouth hanging open. Arthur mentally reviewed his words and added an awkward, “Er - if you’d like to, that is.” 

This seemed to break Merlin free of his trance and his face took on a careful neutrality. 

“Arthur, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this all morning and -- I just wanted to say that I understand if you want to just leave what happened behind and go on being mates. I really don’t mind at all.”

“What the -- _I_ mind! I just asked you out, did you not hear me?” Arthur said, his face screwed up in confusion. 

“No, I heard you,” Merlin went on, looking more uncertain. “It’s just that I know that it’s the holidays and emotions are high so, I don’t want this to be something that you regret later. If you want to wait and see how things go --”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“--when we’re back in London, I’d completely understand, I mean I’m aware that sometimes in a highly stressful situation --”

“I’m not stressed! Merlin, listen to me for a second, alright?” Arthur said, giving Merlin’s forearms a little shake. “Please turn off your psychology brain for a minute and _listen_ to me, okay? I know we got off on the wrong foot, and that’s down to me being an insecure prat. But I’m so glad I’ve gotten to know you better over the last few days and,” Arthur bit his lip, wondering how much he should reveal. He looked into Merlin's dazed and still dubious face and forced himself to go on. “And now I find that -- well, I want to know more. I want to know everything, actually, if you’ll let me.”

Merlin met his eyes looking helpless. “So you’re sure it’s not just --” 

Arthur made a frustrated noise and pulled Merlin in, crashing their lips together just hard enough to effectively shut Merlin up. 

Merlin’s mouth tasted just as good as he remembered, and when he started to kiss back Arthur felt a wave of relief sweep over him. Merlin’s lips were freezing, but his mouth was hot against Arthur’s as they kissed for several long moments, after which he pulled back with a grin. 

“Been wanting to do that since I got back to my room last night,” he told Merlin, who looked as though he was finally catching up. 

“You have?” he said wonderingly, and Arthur laughed.

“ _Yes_ , you berk. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you got here.” 

“And it’s not just because --”

“No,” Arthur said firmly. “Whatever you’re going to say, no. It’s just … I _like_ you Merlin. I think we could be really good together, and I would love a chance to find out. That is, if you’re--”

This time it was Merlin who startled Arthur by leaning in to kiss him again, and Arthur was more than happy to leave the talking part behind them for now. He snaked his arms around Merlin, pulling him in as close as the bulk of their coats would allow. Their kisses were no less sweet than the night before, but there was a certain edge of desperate relief to them. Arthur couldn’t tell whether it was coming from him or Merlin, but as long as he had Merlin in his arms, he found he didn’t much care.

Arthur was well on his way to forgetting his own name, let alone that they were meant to be on a family walk, when an excited shriek pierced the air. He looked up, startled, to find Abigail standing at the top of the hill with her mittened hands clasped together, bouncing on her heels. Merlin was scrambling to disentangle himself from Arthur’s embrace, but he wasn’t fast enough. Morgana -- who had clearly feared someone was trying to murder Abigail and thus appeared on the scene half a second later -- was now staring down at them as well. 

“Um,” Arthur said, straightening his coat and attempting to look at though he hadn’t just been snogging the nanny. 

“Mum, you were right,” Abigail said, clinging to her arm. “I did get what I wanted for Christmas after all.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I wanted Uncle Arthur to have a boyfriend so he wasn’t so lonely,” she said happily. “And now he does!” 

“Arthur?” she said, her eyes turning to him. Arthur felt his throat tighten, and he could see that Morgana’s eyes were shining as well. 

He looked to Merlin, who was a shade of red befitting of the holiday, but who gave a small nod. Arthur needed no further invitation to reach out and clasp Merlin’s gloved hand in his own. Abigail cheered, and Morgana looked as though she might burst into tears. 

It was at that moment that Leon appeared with Vivian on his hip. He surveyed the scene as if trying to figure out who to question first, but then Vivian pointed to the sky.

“Look!” she cried, squirming to be let down. “It’s snowing!”

Arthur looked around and sure enough, fluffy flakes of snow began to swirl around them on the path. He was glad for the distraction of everyone exclaiming over the flakes, even though Leon did slap him heartily on the back and Morgana couldn’t stop looking at him with a ridiculously fond expression. As they continued on their walk, he kept hold of Merlin’s hand and found that the cold barely touched him. 

Abigail, satisfied that her Christmas wish had come true after all, seemed content to leave them to their devices -- although she did look back at their linked hands with a grin several times during the walk back to the cottage. Arthur couldn’t blame her, as he could hardly believe it himself. Even when he stole a kiss in the porch then pressed his cold nose to Merlin’s neck just to hear him laugh. 

The rest of the afternoon passed with everyone pitching in to help cook Christmas dinner together, even the girls completing tasks under the watchful guidance of their father. Merlin and Arthur had a series of increasingly intense competitions to see who could peel vegetables faster, and when Arthur finally won a round he whooped so loudly that Merlin kissed him just to make him shut up. Arthur was giddy with warm feelings, only made better when he caught Morgana rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Leon. 

When they finally sat down to eat -- Arthur making sure he was beside Merlin so that he could press their feet together -- it was to delicious food and general high spirits. Merlin looked adorable in his paper crown, and when he laughed at Abigail’s terrible joke his eyes crinkled up enchantingly. Arthur was pretty sure heart bubbles were literally appearing over his head at this point. Was this how it felt, he wondered, to be with someone who fit so well into your life? Usually the thought of forever terrified him, but when it came to Merlin, it just filled him with a warm hope. 

Eventually they progressed past terrible cracker jokes and the conversation moved to good memories of Christmases past. Morgana and Arthur told the uproarious story of Uther and the frozen turkey, complete with Morgana's uncanny impressions. Leon shared one of his many stories of the antics that he and his late best friend had gotten up to -- this one involving a manger scene and a bottle of Talisker. When Merlin tentatively shared his memories of making Christmas pudding with his mum, Arthur squeezed his hand under the table and felt strangely proud. 

When Morgana decided that they'd lingered over the table long enough, she supervised a quick washing up then ordered everyone back in their pyjamas. 

Arthur couldn't help but think back to their awkward first night as he curled next to Merlin on the sofa. Had it really been only three days ago? He slid his hand into Merlin's and squeezed as Morgana queued up the film. 

"It's a Wonderful Life," Merlin said with an eye roll. "We're really leaning into the cliches now, eh?"

"You're just noticing?" Arthur laughed. "Get read for the waterworks, by the way."

"I heard that," Morgana said. "Don't forget you cried harder than I did last year."

"That was Leon," Arthur reminded her. 

Leon shrugged good naturedly. "It's a touching film."

That set them all off laughing as the girls shushed them. Later, when Merlin shifted even closer and wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, he once again felt the sense of bone-deep contentment settle over him. Merlin was wearing the pyjamas Arthur had given him, and Arthur couldn't resist stroking the soft material at his knee. Merlin smiled down at him, his face soft behind the glasses that Arthur was now free to adore him in. Merlin shifted a bit and trailed his fingers over the soft hair at the back of Arthur's neck, sending a little shiver of want through him. 

After the film had ended, with various sniffles from the adults and complaints of boredom from the children, everyone stood to stretch and amble around the kitchen picking at the various bits and pieces still left lying about. 

Arthur hugged and kissed both the girls goodnight, with an extra tight hug from Abigail. Vivian took Merlin's hand and asked sleepily if he would read her a bedtime story, so they headed up the stairs with Leon and Abigail following. 

As soon as they were out of the room, Morgana launched herself at Arthur, hugging him as tightly as Abigail had. 

"I'm so happy for you," she said, pulling back and squeezing his face between her palms. Arthur wanted to shrug her off, embarrassed by her excitement, but instead he just pulled a face at her.

"Please tell me you didn't hire him specifically to set us up."

Morgana laughed. "He honestly was the most qualified -- not that I didn't hope. You certainly were difficult about it though." 

"It's my prerogative as an annoying little brother." 

Morgana snorted at that and moved toward the living room, flicking off lights as she went until only the glow of the Christmas tree remained. 

"Have a good night," she told him. "But not too good; that sofa is beastly to clean." 

"Do I want to know how you know that?" 

Morgana just ruffled his hair in the way she knew he hated and retreated up the stairs. 

Arthur did settle back on the sofa, where he wrapped the blankets around himself and gazed at the Christmas tree. He thought back to the beginning of the holiday when he and Merlin had been standing awkwardly in the hall holding the same tree and how different it looked now, lovingly covered in lights and ornaments. He thought about how he'd assumed then that he'd have to grit his teeth and bear Merlin intruding on his holiday, instead of seeing him as someone he could share the holiday with. 

Arthur smiled at Merlin when he padded back down the stairs. As he got closer, Arthur lifted up the blankets to invite him in, and Merlin flopped onto the sofa next to him like he'd done it a hundred times. There was a bit of an awkward silence at first, and Arthur had a moment's panic that they'd have nothing to talk about. Then he'd asked what book Vivian had wanted Merlin to read, they were off. 

They talked on the sofa for hours -- at first comparing favorite children's stories growing up and as adolescents. Then Merlin had made him laugh so hard that he'd nearly woken up the whole house with stories of trying to learn French as an au pair. Merlin asked more about Arthur's job, and they'd complained about statistics, then talked about Merlin's timeline for finishing his degree, and what he imagined doing after. Arthur listened, holding Merlin's hand and unable to keep from picturing being in Merlin's life for everything that would come next.

When Merlin couldn't stop yawning, Arthur insisted that they get some sleep. Merlin groaned as he hauled himself up from the sofa. 

"Let me guess, you have a tradition for Boxing Day as well," he said, offering Arthur a hand up. 

"Oh yes, and it's the best one," Arthur replied, getting to his feet but keeping hold of Merlin's hand. Merlin looked at him warily and he grinned. "We do absolutely nothing all day."

"Oh thank _god_."

They had arrived at Merlin's door and Arthur couldn't resist pulling him into his arms for a kiss. Merlin went gladly, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist and smiling into the kiss. 

"What are you doing this Saturday," he asked when they finally pulled away. "I want to take you on a proper date once we're back in London." 

Merlin looked at him with bright, warm eyes. 

“Well, I really ought to focus on my thesis,” he said, then laughed softly at Arthur’s crestfallen expression. “But I think I can make an exception for dinner.” 

“Good,” Arthur kissed him to seal the deal. They whispered their goodnights and Arthur returned to his own room, where he stood for a moment, watching the tiny snowflakes swirl in the moonlight. When he crawled under the duvet it was with a smile on his face, and when he dreamed it was only of the many happy days to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and that this holiday season is finding you merry and bright <3 And if it’s not, I hope you’re burying yourself in lots of Merthur fluff!


End file.
